


He did that.

by emimix3



Series: Chase the Ace [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Coming Out, Dialogue Heavy, Discussions of sexuality, Double Life, Established Relationship, Gay Bar, Homophobia, LGBTQ+ themed, M/M, Outing, Recreational Drug Use, Secret Relationship, Team Dynamics, discussions of gender roles, not necessarely positive dynamics, toxic masculinity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-04-24 04:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14347554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emimix3/pseuds/emimix3
Summary: One week in the life of Kent Parson -For Kent, the closet was somewhere comfortable. Safe. While he isn't out, things stayed the way they are and that's honestly all he asked. He had his public, hockey life, where he did his job and had his team and won cups and awards, and where no one knew about his private, gay life with his boyfriend and his friends.All was good, and if you asked him it wouldn't have changed until his retirement.No one asked.





	1. Saturday night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello ! 
> 
> I'm here with a Kent-centric chaptered fic. He's a caracter I find really interesting, because we know next to nothing about him.
> 
> It is set in Year 4, after Jack and Bitty's coming-out.
> 
> Updates should be regular, most of the fic is already written, even if I don't know yet when the updates will be.
> 
> EDIT: updates on Wednesdays and Saturdays!

"So how did you find this place? It is like, the emptiest area of all of Vegas…”

“Know a guy who knows a guy who heard of it, or something. Come on, we’re gonna have so much fun, Gem’.”

 

Carl’s idea of ‘having fun’ could be translated in ‘making fun of’. Most of the guys’, actually. And the place this little group of six hockey players went to right now? It was a gay club. Carl and Kanner managed to convince the others that it would be hilarious, and well, they didn’t need to find a lot of arguments to motivate them all in under five minutes. Gemini began to have some second thoughts, but Gemini was a rookie and he didn’t want everyone else to think he was like, a pussy or someone who can’t have fun.

 

“I think it’s here,” Carl said, looking at the directions on his phone.

 

‘Here’ was a seemingly residential building, with an insurance office on the ground floor.

 

“Ok, maybe not.”

“No, wait Carl, maybe this door?”

 

Debbs was pointing at a black door between the building and the one next to it, battered and quite dirty. Three guys were coming out of it, all in short shorts and one had a neon yellow tank top -the other two were zipping their dark hoodies on, even if the temperature outside tonight was awfully high.

 

“Yes,” Kanner said, grinning. “Let’s go.”

“I’m not sure it’s such a good idea anymore,” Teds, next to Gemini, muttered.

“Get a pair, Teds,” Carl snickered, pushing the door open.

 

Debbs caught both Gemini’s and Teds’ wrists to drag them inside before they could go away. The other followed suite in the narrow hallway, from where they could hear some faint music.

The club was actually underground. It was dark, really dark, and the coloured lights were so bright, the music -some basic club shit- was LOUD, and Gemini couldn’t help but think, even after years and years of locker rooms? ‘Gosh, I’ve never seen so many shirtless guys.’

 

“Holy shit that’s so great.” Carl yelled to cover the music. “Look at that. They all have _glitter_.”

 

His tone wasn’t admirative in any way. He was having the time of his life, because of how truly awful and hilarious he found the situation.

 

“Let’s go get drinks,” Kanner proposed.

“Gemi, come with me to find places to sit,” Clarke said, tugging Gemini’s arm.

 

He followed Clarke, not knowing where to put his eyes and what to do with himself anyway. Debbs was with them and he spotted a booth that had just emptied.

 

“How long are we going to stay here?” Gemini asked when they sat.

“What, you wanna shake your ass on the dancefloor?” Clarke snickered.

“No, I just feel so uncomfortable and out of place that I pretty much wanna die.”

“Don’t be a pussy,” Debbs said. “Let’s get wasted and make fun of everything.”

 

At this, a flight of ten bright pink shots got slid on the table between them.

 

“I heard you wanted to get wasted? I have what it needs,” Carl said with a huge grin before he sat next to Debbs.

 

Kanner and Teds also sat here, Teds with another flight (this time, green and yellow) and Kanner with three big cocktails with each two straws, all of a different colour but full of glitter.

 

“Prost!” Kanner said, a shot in hand.

“To straightness!” Carl yelled, and everyone downed their drink.

 

Three drinks in, the music hadn’t got any better. At least, it wasn’t Britney anymore. At least, Teds and Gemini had began to relax and have fun, laughing at all the weird things that the others were pointing to them. (“Why is this guy dressed as a half-naked angel?” “Look at this one, he wears a mask.” “Oh god, is that a jock strap? Is he really only wearing a jockstrap?” “God, is that _U + Ur hand_? Can they play something good?”)

 

And, in the mood enough to participate, it was Teds who yelled over the P!nk song:

 

“Hey! Look how this guy looks like Parse!”

 

Indeed, dancing on the bar, who was more illuminated than the rest of the club, was a shirtless slightly muscly blond, with a grin, a body type, and a face similar to Parse’s. He was half grinding on the guy next to him, who was… Well, sweating a lot. Or was it glitter?

 

“Oh my _GOD_.” Carl said, his phone out and already recording. “I need to send this to our fearless leader.”

“Yo, it’s nothing,” Gemini frowned. “All the blond twinks around there look like Parse; look, this one,” -he pointed a guy a table away.

“Or this one”, Clarke said, but Carl wasn’t listening.

“Or this -holy shit.”

 

Teds voice had gone quiet, and his eyes open wide.

Gemini and Clarke, the closest, were the only ones who heard him. They followed his look and stopped.

 

A few feet on the left of Parse’s clone, was Parse himself. Only wearing microshorts, pink shutter glasses, a snapback and high heels, a fancy orange cocktail in hand and dancing and singing like he owned the place.

Gemini, who was about to down his shot, missed his mouth.

 

“Holy shit it’s Parse.”

“Yo…”

 

Gem had nothing better to say. What could he say, anyway. His captain was half-naked in a gay club, belting some P!nk and grinding some random dudes on the bar, the body full of glitter and hickeys. And wearing heels. _Heels._

 

“That can’t be him,” Clarke said at normal volume, so that only Teds and Gem could hear. “That can’t be Parse.”

“Have you seen his bruise? He got it during the game yesterday. You know it. You were there,” Teds argued.

 

A nasty check the day before let a huge bruise on Parse’s ribs, and he got a day off to nurse it.

Pretty sure that that much drinking and dancing wasn’t the best way to heal an injury, but hey.

 

“I wanna puke,” Gemini stated, not sure if because of the alcohol, his captain, the heat or everything happening at once.

“Don’t.”

“Should we tell the others?” Teds shushed just loud enough for them to hear.

“No way in hell.”

“But Parse- He’s… You know… Gay?” -the last word was barely audible.

“I don’t know, Teds,” Clarke replied. “Maybe not. We’re not, and yet, we’re still here.

 

But not in stilettos and glitter, Gemini wanted to say, if he could talk.

The song ended, and Carl, Debs and Kanner hadn’t noticed a thing. They had focused solely on Parse’s lookalike, and were now turned away from the bar, checking the video Carl recorded, giggling at it.

 

“Send it to the group chat, Carl.”

“I’ve got no network, I’ll send it when we’re out.”

“I’m gonna get more shots.”

 

Debs left the table, and Carl and Kanner continued to look at Carl’s phone. Clarke, Teds and Gemini? They couldn’t get their eyes away from Parse, because now it was Britney who was playing and Parson was _living_ the song.

 

“Remember when he was saying that he hated Britney Spears?” Clarke asked. Neither Teds and Gemini remembered, being the last two additions to the team, but for someone who hated Britney Spears he seemed to know all the lyrics and a complex choreography of _Toxic_ a bit too well _._

 

“Do you think that if I drink bleach, I can unsee all of that?”

“No, Clarke, I just think you’ll die.”

 “Works for me.”

 

Debbs came back from the bar with two new flights of shots by the end of the next song. Teds downed three of the shooters in a row, under the cheers of Debbs and Kanner, and Gemini tried to follow him but one shot of the weird blue thing was enough to turn his face grey.

 

“I’m really going to retch.”

“Come here,” Teds said, gripping his wrist to pull him out of the booth.

“What, Teds, you gonna make your boyfriend dance?” Carl teased.

“Nah, just making sure he doesn’t barf in your face, but I still can change my mind.”

 

Gemini could barely walk, at this point. He was draped over Teds’ shoulders when they followed the walls of the club, looking for a bathroom somewhere. Teds’ own step was becoming irregular, the three shots beginning to affect him.

 

“Why are they playing Katy Perry? I hate Katy Perry,” Gem cried.

“Because she kissed a girl and she liked it.”

“I hate her. My ex dumped me by texting me this song.”

 

Wow, harsh. Teds didn’t even know Gem had a girlfriend.

 

“Wow, we hate her too.”

“Yes she’s the worst. I miss her.”

 

Finally, they reached the bathroom, at the end of a narrow, but lit, hallway. One of the stalls was unused, and Teds was thanking everything on this Earth that the music was so loud because he was pretty sure the stall next to the one Gemini was puking in had two set of feet -and he didn’t want to know what was happening in there.

Well, it’s not like he had never hooked up in the bathroom of a club, but - wasn’t the same.

After a few minutes, Gemini was feeling better. Still pale, but not as grey as before. Teds helped him on his feet, and both of them splashed water on their faces to sober up a little.

 

“Let’s go, you can walk?”

“I wanna go home,” Gem stuttered. “I’m sad, now.”

“Yeah, let’s just warn the others, I’m bringing you back.”

 

But of course, things weren’t that simple. The dancefloor was even more crowded than before, and Teds had absolutely no idea of how they’ll reach their table. The quickest would probably be to find a way around the dancers, and-

 

“What the fuck.”

 

Next to them, going towards the hallway, was Parse. His shutter glasses were on his snapback, and he had now an open flannel shirt on -but nothing under it. Teds could see from the corner of his eye Gemini zeroing on the high heels, so he walked on his foot to get him to look up.

 

“We were… Leaving.”

“What the _fuck_ are you doing here?” Parse spat, his eyes wide open and an edge in his voice.

 “Just leaving, okay? We’re getting Carl and the others and we’re getting out of here-“

“Carl is here?!” Kent said, now straight up close to panic.

“Yes, but-“

“Hey, hun-” a guy, not very tall, white, and with unruly brown hair- arrived and said, kissing Parse on the cheek, “-Diva was asking for you at the bar, can you go see what she -Oh.”

 

He had noticed Teds and Gemini who were looking at them with both the mouth and the eyes wide open. Welp, if he was cosy enough with Parse to kiss him on the cheek, he probably knew that they were his teammates. Uh. At least the guy had the decency to be dressed, even if in a tank top.

 

“Well, here goes Clarke’s theory that you’re maybe still straight,” Gemini, way too drunk, said.

 

This seemed to snap something in Kent, because he suddenly frowned and grabbed Gemini’s wrist, and told, with his captain voice:

 

“You two, you come with me.”

 

He led them in the hallway, but not to the bathroom -he opened another door, that lead to another hallway, and got a key from his shorts’ pocket to open yet another door and pushed his teammates in there.

The room looked like a small office, with a desk absolutely full of papers, a computer, an armchair and a couch. In the corner there was an open closet with a pile of bags and clothes.

The light was strong and white, and Gemini was living it like an aggression.

 

“So, who is here?” Parse inquired, after he shoved them both on the couch.

“Uh… Clarke, Carl, Debbs, and Kanner.”

“Fuck.”

“Only us and Clarke have seen you? The others didn’t notice until like, ten minutes ago at least? Then I had to bring Gemini to the toilets.”

“Ten minutes- You saw me on the bar?”

“Uh. Yes. ‘Wish I hadn’t, it was the most awful moment of my life.”

 

Parse was visibly vexed. He crossed his arms, and set all his weight on one leg, getting him in a pose that Gemini preferred to see on sexy girls. Not his captain.

 

“Excuse you? My moves are perfect.”

“Why do you gotta look so gay?” Teds asked.

“Fuck you, Jameson. Why were you here?”

 

Gemini shrugged.

 

“We didn’t want to come, but Carl convinced us it’d be hilarious.”

 “God, of all the guys of the team, it had to be you. You’re the worse bunch that could know,” Parse sighed.

“And why so?” Teds asked.

“Because you’re the shitstains who decided to go to a gay club to make fun of the people here.”

“So you… You are gay?” Gemini said, with a tiny voice.

 

Kent was looking at him, not impressed. The harsh light made the glitter he had on turn him into a Twilight’s vampire.

 

“Wow, did you guess it all by yourself or did you have some help on this one? You want a gold star maybe?”

 

Both rookies looked at the floor, not really knowing where to put themselves. They were already used to be yelled at by Parse, but it really didn’t make the confrontation any more comfortable.

 

“I’m telling you what you are going to do. You’re going back to the others, and you all are going to leave, and you are never going to mention this to anyone on this planet ever, even between yourselves. If I hear any rumour, anything, that would imply that anyone knows, I’m going to make sure none of you play hockey ever again. And I can do that, and you know it. Am I clear?”

 

It wasn’t that much a question than it was an order.

 

“Yes.”

“So get the fuck out of this club.”

 

Teds quickly gathered Gemini and dragged him outside, Parse right behind them -in the hallway, were waiting the guy from before and the Drag Queen who was working at the bar before. The two rookies didn’t look at them, kept their head low and passed them, but before they left the hallway they heard:

 

“Vince, do I need to call security?”

“Nah Diva, they are leaving. We should update the blacklist at the entrance, though…”


	2. Sunday morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kent talks with an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone ! I think I'll try to update on Fridays or Saturdays, depending of when I have the time.
> 
> It's not beta-read, if there is any problem with my English (there is. Probably) don't hesitate telling me !

Kent himself didn’t stay long after that. While Diva made sure all his teammates were out of the club, the guy was going through the bags in the office to find Kent’s -and he threw towards him the pants, the hoodie and the running shoes inside, before he himself began to search his own sneakers and he shoved his heels next to Kent’s in his bag.

“My apartment?” he asked, looking at his phone. “It’s closer.”  
“Mine. Kit.”  
“Sure. Jones just finished his shift and has his car, he drops us off.”

Kent didn’t move at all, still slouched on the armchair and the eyes lost on the grey ceiling.

“You plan on not talking and be sorry for yourself until you arrive home so you can cry in your cat’s fur?”  
“’Was thinking of sobbing in the shower actually.”  
“How many bottles do I need to put on the night table for you to replenish all the water you’re gonna lose because of the alcohol and the tears?”  
“I don’t know, all of the bottles at least.”  
“I’ll see what I can do.”

Kent was silent for a few seconds, now looking at the empty couch and playing with the sleeves of his hoodie.

“Thanks, Tim. For being there.”

And then, Kent stopped talking again. He just spoke in the car to convince Jones and Tim to stop at the drive-through because he wanted nuggets, and the three demolished the equivalent of two whole chickens on the McDonald’s parking lot without uttering a word, before Jones dropped them off in front of Kent’s building.

“’Don’t know what happened, but good luck with Vince,” Jones told Tim who was on the pavement while Kent was going straight to the lobby.  
“Thanks. I hope everything will be fine. Still up for dinner at mine’s Wednesday? We’re watching his game and he’ll try to come over after.”  
“Sure. Text me the hour.”

They told each other goodbye, and Tim followed Kent in the building. Of course, Kent didn’t wait for him and had already taken one of the elevators.  
Tim tried to open the apartment’s door with the spare key, but it was blocked. He couldn’t push it.  
Panicking, he shoved his shoulder against it, managing to get it open -just to realise that it was Kent’s legs that had blocked it. He was sitting against the wall right next to the door, curled into himself, head in his knees, and trembling.

“Did I hurt you?” Tim worried, quickly closing the door behind him and locking it.  
“It’s awful, Tim -they saw me. They saw me like that…”  
“Hey now, Ken. Do you want to go on the couch rather than on the cold floor?”  
“The cold floor is good. It’s all I deserve.”  
  
Tim raised an eyebrow as he let the clothes’ bag slip on the floor. And then, because Kent wasn’t moving at all, he also slipped on the floor next to him, shoulder to shoulder, flank to flank, thigh to thigh.

“Don’t come here. It’s the idiot corner.”  
“Yeah, I know Ken. It’s been weeks I try to banish you to the idiot corner and you never went. And now you sit here for no reason at all.”  
“No. I’m an idiot. I was in a public place. Why was I so- urgh. Why was I so gay. Anyone could enter and recognise me. The worse bunch of the team saw me, in heels and full of glitter. I was ridiculous.”

Tim let his head rest on Kent’s shoulder. Kent didn’t move to let him get more comfortable, or to make him get off.

“You weren’t ridiculous.”  
“Well, I was really, really gay.”  
“Being gay isn’t ridiculous.”

Tim felt Kent move. Just enough so that he could put his head against his. He was too drunk to handle a real conversation right now, but at least he seemed to have calmed down a bit. If Tim could get him to go to sleep without being on the edge, his day would be made.

“I’m angry,” Kent said, out of the blue.  
“You can be, Ken.”  
“I don’t wanna talk anymore. Let me wail here all alone.”  
“At least, come to bed,” Tm said, nuzzling his face against Kent’s cheek.  
“I’m not moving, Timmy,” he groaned.  
“Do I need to carry you? I can carry you.”  
“You don’t scare me. I’ve seen shrimps with more muscle than you.”  
“Okay, my shrimps arms cannot carry you, but they can sure as hell tickle you to surrender.”  
  
The threat was real. As soon as Tim finished his sentence, Kent was on his feet, with all the beauty and the grace he could gather considering his drunken state.

“Up! I am up, no tickles!”  
“You are a coward.”  
“I know my weaknesses, Tims. But I think I need you to walk to bed.”

Tim helped his boyfriend to the bedroom, because he sure as hell wasn’t walking straight. He even had a hard time opening his room’s door, but honestly, Tim knew, Kent was purposefully acting as if he couldn’t take off his clothes and his shoes by himself just to let his boyfriend do it for him before falling on the bed.  
Tim had put the keys and the phone that were in his pocket next to his own, on the bedside table, before he himself got rid of his clothing.

“Drink that,” Tim said as he chucked him the water bottle on the table. “And push your legs, I wanna go to bed too.”  
“Wow, bossy. I like that.”  
“I know you like that, you always tell me how much you like that. You don’t know subtle and hints.”

Well, Kent didn’t know why subtilty and hinting were important. He just wanted to get his point across, and to make your boyfriend understand that you loved his freckles, or his nerd ears, or when he manhandles you in bed, why bothering? Just say that you want him to manhandle you in bed. Also, just say that you love to manhandle him in bed, so that he understands right away, and can say ‘sure, manhandle me tonight, Ken’ or ‘yes, no, maybe next time’.  
Manhandling is important to Kent.

_So was voicing his thoughts._

“Can you give me my phone?” he asked, after Tim joined him in the bed.  
“Depends, what do you plan to do?”  
“I need to… I need to talk to someone.”  
“It’s four AM.”  
“Yeah, so give me my phone and go the fuck to sleep, I’m joining you in a few.”

Tim, the head in his pillow, threw the phone on his bedside table in Kent’s general direction, and Kent took it before he stumbled outside, on his balcony.  
Considering the hour, he was pretty sure his phone call would go straight to voicemail. He didn’t really want to talk, actually. He just… Needed to make the phone ring. To leave a one-sided voicemail. And sober Kent would deal with it in the morning.  
But, after two rings, he heard:

“Hello?”

Shit.

“Oh, uh. I… I didn’t think you’d answer. It’s four AM.”  
“I’m just back from my morning jog. It’s seven here. Why are you calling me at four, Parson?”  
“So it’s true. Jack Zimmermann _does_ work harder than God.”

Kent took a sit on the bench near the railing. From there, he could see all of Las Vegas, way more alive than in is in the middle of the day; and he could also see that he forgot to put away the empty bottles from the last time the guys came. The end table in front of him was still totally trashed. At least, that meant the blankets were still out, and he wrapped himself into the fluffiest one.

“Are you drunk? I’m sorry, but I don’t have the time right now to-” Zimms said, sounding a bit annoyed.  
“No! No wait. I mean. Yes I’m drunk, but. I don’t know how to say it. I wanted to rant on voicemail.”  
“Kenny… What’s happening?” he asked, half-minded, and considering the background noise he was very probably stretching while talking.  
“Jack… How is it to be out in the NHL? To your team?”

To be quite honest, Kent had hesitated backtracking. Say that he was just drunk and bored, say that he just wanted to know what was up in Providence. He didn’t want to talk about what happened tonight with his boyfriend, it’s not to talk about it with his ex. But sometimes… Well, sometimes alcohol makes you say things you’d rather not.

“Oh.”

The background noise had stopped. Kent had -sadly- now all of Jack’s attention, and the jerk, not caring that Kent was drunk off his ass, was probably waiting for him to elaborate. He curled further into the blanket, before he tried to look for words:

“I… Some guys of my team. They saw me. They… They know. I hope that they won’t rat me to the others, but…”  
“Wait… no one on the team knew?”  
“… No…”

Kent hated his voice, right now. It was so small, so broken, he felt like a kid. He had pity for himself, he couldn’t even imagine what Jack was thinking.

“Kenny… are you out to anyone? Who knows?” he asked, worry in his voice.  
“Yes! Yes. Yes yes I mean. You, I guess. Your boyfriend, you probably told him. My exes. My boyfriend. Our families. People in my gay club. They’re great. I just… Haven’t told anyone in the team.”  
“And management?”  
“No, they can’t know either.”

Jack took a deep breath, trying to assess the situation. He always did that. Having a conversation with him could take _hours_.

“Ok, so what happened?”  
“I was at the club, and some of the guys were here. They saw me. It’s awful, Jack. I can’t downplay it or something. I was in heels. I was dancing. They saw my boyfriend kiss me. There was _glitter_.”  
“When you say ‘the club’, it’s a gay club?”  
“Yes. Yes it is.”  
“If they went to a gay club,” Jack began with a careful voice, “then maybe they-“  
“No, they came to make fun of people Jack.” Kent cut him. “They deadass told me. I threatened them so they’d keep quiet…”

Jack gulped.

“You _threatened_ them?”  
“It will only work for a while. I don’t know what to do… I mean, I briefed security, and now no one from the staff can set a foot in a fifty feet radius of the door, but it’s too late.”  
“Do you trust them?”  
“Well I basically own the club, so yeah.”  
“Kent. You’re in the closet and you own a gay club?”  
“I- Yes. No. Its’ complicated. It’s a very small club, okay? In that there’s no tourists, only local people, we basically all know each other. A few years ago they were in deep financial shit because they couldn’t keep up with the rent and were about to close it, so another closeted guy and I gave money to buy it. Officially it was anonymous donations and we’re not on the ownership papers, but everyone there considers us the bosses, and, well, me more than the other guy because he’s busy, we’re involved into all the decisions so.”  
“You’ve grown, Kenny,” Jack said, but his voice was a bit fond.

Buying the place was Kent’s best decision. He started going there after a few months in Vegas, hearing from it from a guy who know a guy who knew someone who worked there. He was eighteen with a fake ID, a baby gay far from everything he had known and terrified of going to better-known gay clubs where anyone could recognise him, and the small, non-touristy club provided him the safe space he needed. A place where he could be out. Somewhere where he could wear heels, because he can’t. So yes, when he heard it was probably going to close a few years ago, he, and another closeted athlete with a probably similar story, bought it.  
Kent stretched his legs on the end table in front of him, pushing a beer bottle on the floor.  
The breaking sound made Jack soundly start.

“What was that?”  
“Gravity.”  
  
Jack sighed, but didn’t ask more on the subject.

“Kent, I’m sorry, but… I don’t know what you called me for. I don’t really know how to help you out, right now.”  
“Figured. That’s why I wanted to rant on voicemail, I guess.”  
“If you want just a listening ear, I’m there, but if you want actual advice about how to deal with the current situation, I can’t do anything right now.”

Kent smirked. Jack had grown old way too much.

“Since when are you providing life advice, Mister ‘hey guys, the best way to overcome sadness is to feel other things so let’s get drunk and visit the haunted house out of town’?”  
“ _Oh sweet Lord_ ,” Jack grunted. “I was sixteen! And well, it did work, we totally forgot our loss!”  
“I wish I could forget the shame and humiliation we all felt there, though.”  
“None of us can. Gothy’s still engraved in his shin, to remind us all what happened this night.”

It was true. Gothy, their Juniors teammate, had brought from their exploration more than mere dishonour: he also got a long, thin scar on his shin, that he had loved to flaunt in the locker room every time he wanted to remind his friends how much they fucked up.

“Anyway, I’m much better at giving advice now. The very first thing I told my boyfriend was to eat more proteins, and look what he is now.”  
“Captain of a NCAA team?”  
“… Actually, I was thinking ‘a vegetarian’, but I like your train of thoughts better.”

Kent had a good laugh at that. Jack was just has ridiculous as ever. He had missed it.

“Oh, so you turned you boyfriend vegetarian? You’ll never guess what _my_ boyfriend told me the other day…”

They didn’t talk long after that. When Kent woke up in the morning, that was to the smell of bacon that would probably end a little burned, as usual, and to see that every single water bottle in his apartment had been put on his bedside table with some Advil.


	3. Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who likes Mondays? No one likes Mondays. Mondays are terrible, and this one, exceptionally so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone ! I've decided on posting on Wednesdays and Saturdays. The fic is already almost finished, I still just need the motivation to type what I've written. Terrible.
> 
> Anyway, some team and more Tim in this chapter. I have 0 idea if the pun works I still don't speak English.
> 
> Thank you all for your support, and enjoy !

Monday was awkward. Mondays are often awkward in Vegas, but this one was the worse. Teds and Gemini weren’t talking to anyone. Clarke was looking at Parse as if he had grown a second head. Morvan, Rems, Boxer and some others visibly had a kind of weird encounter behind a strip club the day before. Scraps was. Scraps. Parse was terribly egoistical during the whole morning practice.

And Carl, Debs, and Kanner?

Well, to lift the spirits, they decided to make everyone laugh in the locker room after the practice, by showing the video they recorded at the club two days before.

 

“Look, Parse,” Carl laughed, shoving his phone in Kent’s hands while he was sitting. “We found your doppelgänger at a gay bar.”

 

And indeed, on the video, he could see Filip dancing half-naked on the top of the counter, and, well, yes, now that you put it this way, it’s true that they kinda looked alike. Alike enough so that no one, but Kent himself, was noticing that Kent was also in the video, on the left, with just as little clothes and dancing just as hard on the counter. He was a bit in the background, there was a guy that went and go in front of him, hiding him a bit, but once you knew he was there? No way you could unsee it, shutter glasses and snapback on or not.

 

“Wow,” Kent said, giving the phone back.

 

Visibly, Teds, Gemini and Clarke had seen it too, because Carl just sent the video in the group chat and the three of them blanched. Gemini adverted his eyes to the ground and Teds refused to have any eye contact with Kent.

Kent quickly left after that, making up an appointment to the dentist to avoid any bonding time Mouser would try to impose this afternoon.

He barely got to his car that his phone buzzed.

**Teds, Parse**

> i promise you we havent said anything, he hadalready recorded the video we didn’t know u were on it

> at least, no one recognsid you??

 

Kent locked his phone and threw it on the passenger seat.

 

                                        

When Tim arrived at Kent’s after his morning shift -casinos never stopped in Vegas, but really who needs to gamble at nine AM?-, it was to see that his boyfriend was slowly but surely taking root on his couch. He was watching the ceiling, and the only movement was him softly stroking Kit’s fur.

 

“Hey, Ken.”

“They caught me on tape.”

 

Kent just moved his eyes to glance at Tim, who sighed heavily. He let his bag slide on the ground, and took off his snapback (really, Kent’s) to mess up his light brown curls before he joined him on the couch. Kent made no effort to give him more room, so Tim just sprawled himself half on top of him. Kit groaned, but Kit groaned at Tim all the time.

 

“Gosh your ceiling is so dirty.”

“Tell that to the team, it wasn’t there before last party I hosted.”

 

There was a little silence, for a minute. Kent grabbed Tim’s hand with his, and the soothing feeling of his boyfriend’s thumb on his knuckles helped him to stay grounded.

 

“On a scale from one to ten, how bad is it?”

“A solid seven,” Kent replied. And, because Tim wasn’t talking, he explained: “Carl, you know Carl?”

“Yes, we don’t like him.”

“We so don’t. Anyway, Saturday night Carl filmed Filip because ‘he looked so much like you, Parse’ without realising I’m on the background of the video. He sent it to the group chat. Everyone was looking at it and making fun of Filip, and me because I look like him.”

“There is nothing not wrong with this situation.”

“I _know_ , right? A least they haven’t noticed for now that I’m the video, too.”

 

And that was the heart of the problem. They hadn’t realised yet. But when will they? Will they even? Kent couldn’t live with the uncertainty. He was pretty sure he’d have a heart attack every time one of his teammates took out his phone until the ends of times.

At least, with that many heart attacks, the end of times would come quite quickly for him.

 

“If they haven’t noticed, they probably never will,” Tim tried to reason. “People rarely go through old videos and pictures sent in group chats.”

“But what if one do? What if I’m outed? What will I become?”

 

Kent brought his arm to his eyes. Uh, there was so much dust, in this living room. Tim squeezed harder the hand he was still holding and nuzzled closer to him.

 

“What will we become?” Kent managed to mumble before tears began to flow.

“We’ll be okay, okay?”

“Still as eloquent as ever,” the hockey player chirped between two soft sobs.

 “Oh my God,” Tim took offense, “I am nice, and supportive, and that’s how you thank me-“

 

Kent smiled a little, and took his arm off his eyes to boop Tim’s cheek with his runny nose.

 

“Sorry, babe.”

“Instead of snotting on me, can you show it to me?”

“Yeah, my phone is on the endtable, go wild.”

 

Tim made the surhuman effort to sit up to grab the phone, before slouching back on the couch and Kent -making him go ‘humpf’ in the process.

 

“You got a message from Scraps.”

“Send him the thumb up emoji.”

“I haven’t even read the message to you.”

“He’ll live.”

 

Tim complied, before finding the group chat and scrolling up to get to the video.

 

“Oh, fuck, you’re on it.”

“No shit Sherlock.”

 

Sadly for Kent, Tim didn’t stop the video there. He watched it, fully, and then a second time.

 

“Jamal, Tony and Oliver are also there,” Tim said. “And Filip, of course. I don’t think you can recognise anyone else.”

“Shit, I hadn’t thought about it. What if the video is leaked? It would out them, wouldn’t it?”

“Good thing they are out already, I think.”

 

And then, he hit _play_ for a third time.

 

“Can you not, Tims?”

“What? I like the video.”

“What is there to like? It’s terrible.”

 

Time rubbed his thumb on Kent’s hand, and softly said:

 

“I don’t know. This is the last time you smiled, really smiled, and were happy. Ever since, you’re making a long face. I get it, but… Happy Kent is great to look at. You’re good when you’re yourself.”

 

_Be yourself._

 

“Let’s be real for a second here, though. Kent, if this video is leaked; what do you risk?”

 

Kent took a few seconds to think.

 

“A huge mountain of hate. A team that stop trusting me. A non-renewed contract. No other contract signed, or at the other side of the country. Maybe even getting traded before the end of the season.”

“Okay, and… How much of a problem would that be, to change cities?”

 

Kent looked at Tim as if he just grew a second head.

 

“Babe. You live here? You work here-“

“There’s casinos all over the globe,” Tim shrugged. “Also, if you’re outed, even if you’re not traded? I will have to quit my job. I can’t really deal at the Mirage’s if there’s people from all over trying to come to get a glimpse of Kent Parson’s boyfriend. I mean, I do not do this job by passion, anyway. So yeah, I’ll have to quit, too bad. If we switch cities, maybe I’ll be finally able to buy my own gay club instead of squatting yours.”

“Oh yeah? With which money?”

“Did you know? I’ve gotten myself a stinking rich boyfriend.”

“Oh yeah? And he gonna buy you a club?”

“He better, my job would have been lost because of him.”

 

Kent cuddled a bit more against Tim, and he said softly:

 

“You know, even if nothing happens and you keep your job I’d buy your club.”

”I know. ‘Not sure I have the shoulders for it right now, though.”

“I like that you’re not shy about money and not above asking me for stuff, whether it’s new shoes or a whole bar.”

“Well, you’re making seven figures a month,” Tim began, “it’s not like you had a salary comparable in any way to mine, then I wouldn’t be like that at all. And the secret to win life is to be open to all input and opportunities, so if the opportunity also happens to be good at giving head I won’t say no. You know I’m not with you for the money and that I would love you all the same if you were dirt poor, so… At least, let’s put your salary in a good use.”

“See? A bit of honesty in this crazy world. Not like everyone.”

“Is it about your ex _again_?”

“Did I tell you about the time he told me he wanted something small for his birthday, not above one hundred dollars, and got so salty when I did get him something small, under a hundred dollars? Like, bitch, if you wanted a big thing, just tell me. I live to spoil.”

“We hate Vic.”

“We hate Vic so much. Did I tell you about the time he-“

 

Kent arrived late at his meeting with management in the evening. It was a miracle he didn’t forget it altogether.


	4. Tuesday evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Swoops was Kent's best friend within the team, and yet, he knew very little of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone !
> 
> I updated the tags (added: recreational drug use), because, you guess, in this chapter there is recreational drug use
> 
> Also I'm a moron and I don't know the days of the week in English. I always mix Tuesday and Thursday. I just corrected myself because while editing I noticed the chapter title and the day in the first paragraph weren't the same, but in case I fucked it up, it happens the day between Monday and Wednesday.

Swoops and Kent had a weekly “let’s eat pizza while getting high and watching the ceiling and trash-talk the team, the _other_ teams, the world and if there’s still time, ourselves” night scheduled. Sometimes, an emergency night could be organised if one of them was catching, _ew_ , feels.

Kent still waited for the ordinary Tuesday meeting to drop the bomb.

This time, the bomb wasn’t a fart, but, before the joint began to hit:

 

“I’m so, so, _so_ gay.”

 

Swoops coughed in the smoke, before turning his head towards Kent and frowned at him:

 

“I’m sorry, Parse, but I won’t touch your wee-wee.”

 

Kent, brought his elbow to his eyes, not knowing if he was more trying to hide or to not look at his friend’s reaction. Maybe he should have waited a bit more. The joint hadn’t mellowed them yet. But they were getting so cosy, dozing in his huge, really comfortable couch, in sweatpants and watching trash-TV with the cheesiest pizza of all Vegas (they tried them all), that… Yeah. He said it.

 

“Yeah, no, my boyfriend will kill you, then me, then he’ll fuck off to go marry Channing Tatum.”

 

Jeff took a drag, carefully thinking all the words he was going to say:

 

“So, uh. Really? You really are gay?”

“Yep,” Kent replied, popping the ‘p’. “Pass the joint.”

“And, you have a boyfriend?”

“Yeah, since, like. September? We don’t really know when we ‘got together’, you know.”

 

Swoops looked at his captain, who was now trying to make O’s of smoke. And was avoiding looking at him in the eye. 

You cannot just try to act cool and casual when you’re uncomfortable, Parse.

 

“And I didn’t notice you had a boyfriend for _months_?”

“To be honest, you didn’t notice that before him I had a boyfriend for more than three years, and that when I wasn’t in a relationship I was hooking up left and right. We’ve been friends for like -ok, not ten years, but not that far, and I have been so, so, so gay for every single day of all those years.”

 

It was hard to take in. Kent just said he was his friend, but… But he didn’t tell him. He had had a boyfriend for three years and he didn’t tell him. He had probably been very in love and the breakup had probably been ugly, because Kent was the kind of person to keep everything too close to his heart, and yet, he didn’t tell him. He didn’t ask for any support, when Jeff himself had spent nights crying on his couch and petting his cat when he was divorcing. When his son was at the hospital. When he had problems with his new girlfriend. But Parse never told anything.

 

“Kent… I wish you hadn’t told me.”

 

Swoops was looking right at Parse. His friend began to blink, a bit too fast. His mouth was hanging open. The joint was forgotten in his hand.

 

“It’s just that…” Jeff began. “Just like you said, it’s been years we know each other. Not far from ten. And you’ve been gay for all those years. You had a boyfriend for three of those. You have a boyfriend currently, and it’s been months. And… And you just tell me now, after all this time. Why now? Something must have happened. Something bad.”

“Maybe not, Jeff” Kent said, eyes lost on his end table. “Maybe I wanna propose and I need a best man.”

“Well… Do you wanna propose and do you need a best man?”

“No.”

 

Kent was silent for a few seconds, and turned towards Swoops.

 

“Remember the video? The one Carl sent to the group chat?”

“The one with the guy looking like you dancing? God, Kent, don’t tell me that-“

“Yeah, no, it’s not me-”

“Thanks god-“

“I’m the guy dancing in the background, with just as little clothes on.”

“Oh.”

 

Jeff took a long, hard breath. That’s not how he envisioned the night going.

 

“Well, no one noticed it was really you.”

“Clarke, Teds and Gemini saw me. They saw my boyfriend too.”

“Clarke saw your boyfriend before I did? Are you even that visible on the video?”

 

He took his phone out and went through the group chat to find it and play it. Kent didn’t even try to look at it with him. He knew it by heart. He watched it too many times, to check how obvious he was being. He was texting on his own phone instead, trying to block out the sound.

He was really, really beginning to hate this P!nk song.

 

“Oh shit. Shit Parse, _it is_ you.”

“ _Yes, I know,_ ” he cringed.

“You got mad moves, man.”

 

That got to make him smile; his cocky, superior grin.

 

“I know, right? You’d never guess how much time I spent perfectionning ‘em.”

“Actually, I can very much guess and it scares me a little.”

“You should see me on Britney”, Kent said, passing the joint. “Straight hockey players really don’t use their killer tights for their intended purpose.”

“What, if I begin to dance like this, I will get all the ladies?”

“Well, you _can’t_ attract any less of them, so you should give it a try.”

 

Swoops laughed at the chirp, before taking a big drag. The joint was only now taking effect, now that it wasn’t that needed anymore. Ugh.

 

“But visibly, you don’t really need to bring all those moves to the dancefloor,” Jeff chirped. “Because you’re a man spoken for now.”

“Yeeeah…” Kent said, with a goofy smile that was so weird on him and looking at the ceiling. “I have a boyfriend. I have a _boyfriend_ , Swoops!”

“Is he any good?”

“He’s greater than you’ll ever be,” Kent said, grinning at him.

“Aw… be careful with the diabetes-inducing descriptions, that’s fine material.”

“Oh believe me, he _is_ fine material.”

 

Swops chuckled, and elbowed his friend into the ribs.

 

“So, do I know him? Have I ever met him?”

“Yeah, technically,” Kent teased, stealing the joint to finish it.

 

Swoops loved mysteries and solving them. No need to say, he was _excited_ right now.

 

“Ok ok, I’ve met him. How many times?”

“Yes or no questions, Swoops.”

“Once?” Jeff proposed.

“… mmh, yes, I think it was only the one time.”

“Ok, so… It’s not someone working for the Aces. A player in another team, maybe?” he tried. He frowned a bit, trying to remember any weird interaction between Parse and other players. “Zimmermann? There were rumours about you and Zimmermann.”

 

Kent looked at him, disconcerted.

 

“What the fuck? Zimmermann has a boyfriend. Everyone knows him. And the rumours are like, ten years old.”

“Well,” Swoops explained, “if Zimmermann is gay and you is gay, are the rumours from ten years ago true?”

“He’s not even -He’s _bi._ He said it like, fifty times. His stick tape is the color of the bi flag.”

“There’s a bi flag?”

“Oh my _God,_ straight people”, Kent sighed. “That’s not even the point. The point is my _current_ boyfriend. And no, he’s not in another team, even I am not stupid enough to try that.”

  

Jeff, a bit vexed by his failures, groaned a bit. And then, he had an illumination while munching on his pizza.

 

“I know! A basket-ball player! We met them at the charity even the other time!”

“No! He is like, my size. Barely taller, maybe.”

“Ok so, he is not playing any sports whatsoever. Only we are nice enough to let a dwarf in the team.”

“Wow, fuck you.”

“An actor. He’s an actor. What’s is name again? The one in the movie you forced us to watch last week?”

“First, _Marlon Brando_ is dead, second, no, you’re on the wrong track.”

“A singer. Or a musician. One that makes the kind of trashy pop music you visibly shake your ass on in gay clubs when you just told your whole team ‘no sorry guys, I can’t go out tonight, I have a bit of a headache’.”

 

Personally attacked, Kent stole Swoop’s pizza slice and replied:

 

“What? No. The wrong track, I told you! Why you persuaded I’m banging a superstar?”

“You’re not?”

“A croupier! I’m dating a croupier! I met him when we all brought the rookies gambling in August!”

“Oh…”

 

Kent could hear that Swoops was _disappointed._

 

“Dude, it’s hard enough with one person risking his career if he’s outed, I can’t imagine if we both had to hide.”

“I wanted some hot gossip…”

“If you gossip, I’m castrating you.”

 

They fell into silence. Kent’s voice had grown suddenly aggressive, far from the teasing tone he had until then. When he was high, his mood was swinging way too fast for Swoops to correctly follow. Himself was the kind of person to play percussions on his stomach when high, so, he did that for a while.

 

“So… no one knows?” he finally asked.

“Yes. No. Yes. I’m telling you because everyone will probably know soon. I’m on Carl’s video, Teds, Gemini and Clarke saw me. I threatened them into silence, but I don’t know how long them will keep their dirty mouths shut.”

“Ok… and management? PR? Your agent?”

“I pay my agent to only care about money, and, well… I don’t want him and management to know. I’m at the end of my contract, it’s about to get re-negotiated. And, well, you know PR- Oh, bother.”

 

Kent had just dropped some pizza cheese on his T-shirt, staining it.

 

“You’re a pig- but what about PR?” Jeff inquired curiously.

“You don’t remember?” Kent frowned. “After Zimms came out, we had a meeting. They told us that they refused to deal with ‘a gay scandal like Zimmermann’s’. A _‘gay scandal’_. The poster boy of romanticism chastely kissing his long-term college sweetheart after winning the goddamn Stanley Cup. They acted as if he had been filmed snorting cocaine on a kid’s dick. But no, he was doing the antithesis of that, and yet, that is behavior they don’t want to hear from us.”

“I don’t remember this meeting.”

“Well, I guess that when you’re directly addressed as some shit you don’t want to be dealt with it stays in your mind,” Kent soundlessly muttered.

 

Swoops swallowed, and said “Come ‘ere, big baby,” before he cradled him into his side.

 

“You’re gonna get cheese all over you.”

“Who cares, I’m high.”

“It’s cheesy of you.”

“I can end the hug right now, Parse.”

 

But he wouldn’t.

_Some people are here for you. You are not alone._

 

While the two were hugging, the sound of a key opening the front door was heard. Swoops started at that, but Kent’s smile turned into a grin and he turned as much as he could in Swoops’ arms to watch the door. He looked like a dog whose owner was coming back from work; but, if Jeff said that to Kent, he’d be probably thrown through the window.

The door opened, and a man, in his late twenties or early thirties and that Swoops had never seen in his life entered, ,taking his shoes off right away.

 

“Hey Ken, Jeff has already left? I brought some ice cream I had left- Oh.”

 

He had finally noticed Jeff when he went into the living-room. Swoops quickly took his arms Kent, because you probably shouldn’t touch your bro in front of his boyfriend, but Parse took it personally and shoved himself more into his side -while, at the same time, getting on his knees so he could hug the newcomer over the back of the couch.

 

“Tim! Jeff’s still here!” Kent shouted. “Kiss!”

 

Tim quickly smacked his lips to Kent’s, eyeing suspiciously Swoops while doing so.

 

“I asked him to come”, Parse explained, as he was taking the plastic bag in his boyfriend’s hand to put it on the table. “And to bring dessert. Swoops, Tim, Tim, Swoops.”

 

He then proceeded to take the ice cream tub and one of the two spoons, and began to dig it, as if he hadn’t already swallowed a pizza all by himself.

 

“Ken, how high are you.” Tim stated more than asked, taking the seat next to Kent, who immediately slipped his arm around his waist.

“A little bit only, I swear.”

 

And yet, if you asked Swoops, he looked five times higher than he ever had been right now. It was hysterical.

 

“Wanna some? It’s the good hash Jones got us. You can roll it.”

“You just don’t know how to roll hashish,” Tim teased.

“Don’t call me out in front of my friend babe, he thinks I’m cool,” Kent joked, resting his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder and feeding him a spoon of ice cream.

 

It was weird to see him that cosy with anyone. Kent never initiated contact with any of the guys, and always tried to make it last as little as possible when someone else touched him. Even with Swoops. But yeah, now Kent was still pinned at his side, and he was nuzzling his boyfriend at the same time.

Jeff couldn’t remember the last time he hugged Kent off the ice. Probably never. The kid was probably touch-starved.

Being a queer player was actually lonelier than he could think at first thought.

 

“I’ve never thought you were cool, Parse” Swoops chirped, elbowing him on his way to take the second spoon, to eat before nothing was left.

“What?” Kent took offense.

“When we met, you said ‘Hi, I’m Kent Parson, you’d want my autograph right now considering how expensive those shit will sell’.”

 

Kent was absolutely flabbergasted that Swoops had the audacity to tell that in front of his boyfriend. The boyfriend, him, was probably finding it very fun because he deadpanned:

 

“Wow, he said that? I’m not even surprised; at our first date, he went-“

“-Tims, no-”

“ _’Hey angel gimme three hours and a condom and I can send you back to heaven_.’”

 

Swoops almost swallowed his spoon.

 

“He didn’t. He didn’t imply he’d kill you with sex.”

“He did. And the ‘three hours’ were presumptuous misleading publicity, and the orgasm was at best adequate.”

 

Kent huffed at them, trying to make them stop to mock him by splashing some ice cream at them, and Swoops was happy Parse decided to tell him.


	5. Wednesday afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home game and being home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's late, but it's still Wednesday. I'm in time.

They had a home game, the following day.

After two days of stressing out and not talking to the team, Kent wasn’t feeling it. He felt like he had a rock in his stomach.

‘ _I don’t wanna go to woooork’_ , he had texted Tim on his way to the rink, but Tim had an afternoon shift and was too busy make rich people gambling and lose, but not too much so they’d still tip him and he could continue to buy his stupid board games and way too much candy to share with Kent while watching trash TV, but no, not a cat emoji to support Kent all this afternoon during practice, when a good chunk of his teammates had brought their wives and girlfriends because PR wanted to shoot a video for the YouTube channel, and Kent was so tired and he was too polite to ask for Ritter’s girlfriend name because he wasn’t sure if she was the same as the last time he brought a girlfriend (last week) or a new one. Ritter’s girlfriends all looked the same.

Tim was a traitor.

Right before the game, the whole team was already in the mood to play some good hockey. Half of the guys were playing soccer in the hallway, Teds and Scraps were stretching in a corner like they usually do, Ritter was probably off somewhere having his traditional nap, and the rest of the guys was still half naked and belting the Spice Girls in the locker room.

Kent was sitting at his place, his underarmor and half of his gear already on, and wasn’t doing anything.

  

“You okay, Cap?” Bratfoy asked him, at the end of the song.

 

The speakers began to play _Toxic._

Cap didn’t answer.

 

“Don’t bother, Brat,” someone said. “Parse _hates_ Britney Spears.”

“It’s not like _we_ really _liked_ her. It’s just fun to sing and dance to that.”

 

Kent still didn’t say anything, but he turned his eyes to his knees. Gemini and Teds looked at him for a few seconds, before getting their eyes to their feet. Then, Teds went back to his stretching, and Gemini went out to join the soccer game. The singing and the dancing resumed, and Kent was feeling sicker by the second.

 

Swoops plopped himself next to Parse, almost in his lap, making him start.

 

“Don’t be so grim, Parse.”

“I have the authorisation to do what I want,” Kent replied, pointing at the ‘C’ on his chest. “Let me be grim if I want to. The soundtrack of my life is a Lana Del Rey album, I can brood all I want.”

 

At least, Swoops being in Kent’s personal space got him to move. He had gotten his cellphone out of his bag, typed his unlock passcode, then the SMS app passcode to check his texts, not caring that Jeff was reading over his shoulder.

 

**Timothy, Kent**

> Good luck for tonight (Cat )! Fresh outta work

> I have the funniest sotry about one of the patrons still don’t know how I managed not to laugh to his face while he was playin

> Pribably not v well BC he didn’t tip LOL

> Anyway good luck, the bois are coming to watch the game, ………..

>> thanks ……. Cu2n (Steam Locomotive ≊ Locomotive)

 

“So many periods…” Swoops teased. “And train emojis and acronyms I don’t know.”

 

Kent quickly looked around the room, making sure everyone was too busy singing to listen to him, and said softly:

 

“’Can’t risk to have anything compromising on my phone, if one of the guys decides to go through it. Periods are like, xo’s, and we send each other weird emojis instead of hearts. He loves trains, so.”

“Oh.” Jeff’s grin disappeared. “And uh… the acronym?”

“’See you tonight’; he hosts a viewing party with some friends from the club and I’ll join them when we finish playing.”

“That’s why you barely ever go out with us after games?”

 

Kent shrugged.

 

“Your definition of ‘after-game party’ involve often too many female strippers to make me comfortable.”

“If it reassures you, it does too for me.”

“It doesn’t reassure me at all. Why you even bother going if it makes you uncomfortable?”

“I… I don’t even know. It’s like… I’m invited, so I guess I gotta say yes. ‘T’s not like there was a ton of other options of how to celebrate, we _are_ in Strip-City.”

“Of course there are!” Kent hushed. “Bars, at-home parties, clubs, getting drunk on ice, crashing a students’ party, I don’t know. It’s not like you’d be alone; lot of guys are uncomfortable with strip-clubs. Too young, married, not their thing, I don’t know. So, when someone ask to a strip-club organise an anti-party somewhere else or something. Don’t let other people force you to do stuff you’re uncomfortable with.”

 

Swoops took a few moments, his eyes lost in between his singing teammates all around the locker room.

 

“Yeah. You’re probably right, Parse.”

 

 

 

 

**Timothy, Kent**

> [Picture sent: a mis-matched group of a dozen people, most of them men, sitting around a TV and with pink cocktails in hand. Tim is on the foreground, taking the selfie]

> ……..

> Good luck (Smiling Cat Face With Open Mouth )

 

**Jack, Kent**

> Hi Kent, merde for your game. I’m with Bits and some of the guys of the team, we’re watching it. It was nice to talk with you the other day. We should do it again. I think there are a lot of things we still have to say to each other. I hope all’s good for you.

 

**Caren, Kent**

> Hi Ken. Mom and Dad r wishing you luck & I hope u wont break lol

> Tell T to phoen me back pls gotta ask him smtg re:my bd

> u also better come

 

**Agent John, Kent**

> Hello Kent, a few teams contacted me with more or less interesting contracts. I forwarded all of them in an e-mail. Please go over them and call me so we can talk about how to proceed face-to-face. Good luck for your game.

 

 

They lost. 2-3, nothing dramatic, but the game of the Aces was all over the place tonight. No one was focused, and teamwork was pitiful, at best.

A reporter asked Kent after the game why he had been such an egotistical player tonight, but Kent knew that his problem was that he was not egoistical enough. Instead, he told her that they may have been at a low tonight, but it only meant they’d be better for their next game.

 

_I want to come out._

 

Kent went to Tim’s after the game. He lived in a cheap old building, but at least his apartment was a bit spacious and cosy; he used to have a roommate but he now had the space all to himself, and to the fifty people who seemed to constantly squat his living-room.

Okay, it was more like, “ten-ish people who regularly came here to pre-game” but it was _details_.

Everyone softly greeted Kent when he arrived, the bolder ones daring to go for a hug, and Tim, on the couch, just motioned to let his boyfriend come sit on his lap, but Kent rather sat on the floor between his legs and pressed his cheek to his knee.

He was always in a sour mood after a bad match, but he knew that right now, he looked way worse than usually.

Everyone seemed to get it, because they kept talking as they did before he came, only about things that had nothing to do with hockey. Kent participated a little, because Filip had a problem with his mortgage and Kent’s parents had had the same issue, and talking to his friends about housing problems with his boyfriend’s hands in his hair was all Kent needed right now, and after that Ann and Lydia had a proposition for a theme for one of the co-ed nights at the club, and they hadn’t hear his opinion yet, and anyway the beer he kept drinking helped him to talk more.

One after another, up until late in the night, everyone left. Some to work or party at the gay club or the lesbian bar, some to go back home to their significant other or to go to sleep.

One of Tim’s hand was around Kent’s, who was dozing off, still sitting between his legs. As they were finally alone, he pressed his fingers to get his attention, and asked:

 

“How terrible?”

"I am so tired.”

“Stay here tonight?”

“I’ll leave early to feed Kit and jog with some of the guys.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s already really late, though. Come to bed?”

“I have a phone call I wanna make, I’ll join you,” Kent said, before he pressed his lips to Tim’s hand.

 

Tim stroke his cheek, softly, and told him as he got up:

 

“Love you.”

“I know.”

“Don’t Han Solo me, you dork.”

“What, you ass?” Kent joked, his eyes on Tim who was walking to his room. “You’re the most awesome Princess Leia!”

“There’s no more awesome Leia than Leia herself, cretin!” Tim shouted from the bedroom.

 

Kent chuckled, softly. He didn’t move, still sitting on the floor, his back against the couch, but he took his phone from his pocket. He didn’t even have to go at the bottom end of his contact list, this time; just to go to his “recently called” numbers.

No idea if he wanted to talk to him, or go straight to voicemail this time, though.

 

But of course, after two rings, Jack “I-do-not-know-the-concept-of-sleep” Zimmermann answered the phone.

 

“Hi, Kenny.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thaks everyone for your support !


	6. Thursday morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kent and Jack talk about being LGBT and being queer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically the whole reason why I wrote this piece. I needed to exteriorise all the discussions I had at 3 am with my friends, or something like that.  
> I hope you'll like it, and am of course open to any discussion on the subject !
> 
> CW discussion of homophobia, heteronormativity, gender issues, toxic masculinity

_“Hi, Kenny.”_

“And you answer once again.”

“Don’t phone me if you don’t want me to answer.”

“I don’t know if I want you to answer, to be honest. You’re doing your morning jog?”

“Raining like hell here. I am working out inside, and I gotta bring Bittle at the train station soon anyway. If he ever decides to hear his alarm, at least. And you? I doubt you’re morning jogging at like -almost three AM, right after a game.”

“Oh, you know. Hangout with friends, sleeping over at the boyfriend’s, everything’s raging here, yada yada”

 

Jack wasn’t impressed.

 

“Everyone left and he went to bed and I wanted to talk to you, so yeah.”

 

That sounded more believable.

 

“What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know. Everything. Nothing. Coming out. Sorry I’m not really funny lately but that’s all I can think about those days.”

“Understandable. It was also eating us out before we came out, at least to our friends and my parents.”

 

Kent hummed a little, letting his finger slipping around the rim of one of the glasses on the endtable.

 

“But, coming out? That’s new. We didn’t talk about you coming out the other day.”

“Things have changed,” Kent hastily said. “My teammates. They have a video of the club. I’m on it. They haven’t noticed I’m on it but it’s in the group chat.”

“Oooh.”

“Yeah, ‘ooooh’.”

 

Jack took a deep breath, and tried:

 

“Okay. Okay that sucks.”

“It does.”

“Could PR-“

“PR could do a lot of things, but the question is ‘would PR’. The answer is probably no. I wouldn’t trust Sandra to water my plants while I’m away.”

 

That had seemed to unsettle Jack quite a lot.

 

“Kent… You really don’t trust the Aces? Neither the players, nor the staff?”

“I mean, there’s probably good apples among players and staff -but as a whole, no, I don’t trust them.”

“Kenny, why are you playing for the Aces?”

 

 _That_ unsettled Kent.

 

“I… they drafted me.”

“Eight years ago. Your first contract has ended and has been renewed already, twice. Soon again. You don’t have to stay with the Aces.”

“They are my team!”

“You’re clearly not comfortable with them.

“The thing is… I don’t think that it would change much, wherever I am. My coming-out will be a shitstorm, and I’m terrified. “

“Kenny… Listen. I went through that, all of that, and-”

“No,” Kent cut him. “No, Jack, you don’t get it. You haven’t. Our coming-outs will be really, really different. You got so much shit thrown at you, that I know- but that’s nothing next to what I _will_ get.”

 

Jack was silent for a few moments, just enough for Kent to ponder what he just said, and he told, carefully:

 

“Okay, carry on on that thought.”

“It’s that… I don’t know how to say all of this. It’s a conversation I had had with Diva and Lucio and Ann, one day…”

”I do not know any of those people.”

“Diva is the lead barmaid and manager of my club. Lucio is like, the publicist I guess, I’m not sure of what he does exactly actually. And Ann is the manager of the lesbian bar across the street. Anyway, we were talking -about you coming out, and how people reacted, and whether it was safe for me to come out one day too. And how I described everyone should just explain you why I can’t come out without problems.”

“I… I don’t get it.”

“Thing is…” Kent began, curling a bit more around himself. “I’m not like you. You, Jack… You are a safe gay.”

“Sorry -I’m a _what_ now?”

“You’re a safe gay! It’s- Just bear with me, I’m drunk, okay? You are like. A puppy.”

 

Visibly, Jack wasn’t enthralled.

 

“A puppy.”

“Shh! You are a cute puppy, picked up in the streets, or something. Thing is, people as a whole accept your sexuality because they can just… ignore it. I say you’re like a puppy, because, like a puppy, you’re not sexualised at all. The moment you came out, people, like, suddenly stopped to consider you as a sexual being to be able to ignore that you _do_ have sex, but with a man.”

“That makes absolutely no sense.”

“Oh yeah? Compare your photoshoots last year and this year. Suddenly, you have way more clothes. Your interviews have far less innuendos and ‘So, how are you going to celebrate your win, wink wink’ questions, that you always had before, and your teammates still get. And I know that. We were drunk and we spent the night on the internet to check all of this. And, besides that... Let’s say that, when we can’t ignore your boyfriend, it’s. Not that bad? Like, think about it.”

 

Kent himself took a few seconds to gather his thoughts, and continued:

 

“You are over six feet tall. You’re a beefcake. You’re an athlete. You’re manly without even trying. You perfectly fit the gender role attributed to men. And your Bittle, he’s… Human-sized, but next to you he’s just so tiny. He bakes, a _lot_ , and everyone and their mother knows his love for Beyoncé and his past as a figure skater… He’s not really the poster boy of the macho-man. So… When Roger McRoger, fifty-four, who’s never met a gay guy before, sees you two, he’s… He’s not scared. He knows the pattern, and he can apply it on the canvas of heteronormativity that he knows. You are the ‘man’ of the relationship; Bittle is the ‘girl’. It doesn’t shake the foundations of all that he has known since childhood. Plus, you’re not… overtly gay. As I said, you’ve been desexualised, and you’re not politicised. You gave a few talks for You Can Play, but that’s about it. You’re not talking much about LGBTQ issues, and even if you went to one-in-four-maybe-more Samwell your entourage seems to be mostly made of straight people. You’re not involved in the community, you don’t go on rants on Twitter about feminism or non-binarity, you never mention your sexuality when not prompted.”

 

Jack only hummed at all of this. Still as interesting to talk with as ever.

 

“I mean”, Kent continued. “I respect that, all of that, do what you want and what you can. But thing is, for Roger McRoger… You’re like, the perfect son-in-law that just may end up with his son instead of his daughter. That’s why I say that you’re a non-threatening, safe gay. Because it’s easy to forget that you are. Look, everyone always forgets you’re bi. And, on the other hand…”

“On the other hand, there is you.”

“There is me. I’m none of those things. I’m the evil gay demon they warn you about in church. I’m the kind of gay guy who spends his nights in hidden gay clubs, half naked. The kind of gay guy who mostly is friends with other gay guys, and lesbians, and drag queens, who are all politically involved. I’m the kind of gay guy who wears heels and jockstraps even when not playing. I cannot be like you, a guy that the media manage to erase the sexuality of and can depict as someone who would only have sex once married, on Shabbat night in the dark and in missionary. I sucked way too many dicks in dirty bathrooms, got fucked by way too many dudes I forgot the name of. I’m the contrary of a safe gay. I’m… yes, I’m queer. I’m a queer twink who invaded the bastion of toxic masculinity that is professional sports for oh-so-many years and who acted as if he was one of them. So, as soon as people will realise that, no, I’m not like them and that they didn’t notice, I’m going to get shit. So much shit. I don’t have a legacy, an aura of natural masculinity, a tragic backstory or a cute love story to hide behind. Only my stats -and that’s already better than the two guys who came out after you, I guess.”

“Lebrown and Rickson.”

“Yeah. Lebrown whose NHL contract hasn’t been renewed and is now in the AHL, and Rickson who is right now at the hospital for one illegal check too many.”

 

To be honest, Kent didn’t know what scared him the most; ending up like Rickson, or like Lebrown. With his luck, it would be like both.

Jack took a deep breath, and tried:

 

“Kenny. I understand what scares you, but you can control your image. You don’t have to-“

“If I come out-“ Kent cut him, “if I come out it’s not to still comply to the gender role I don’t really conform to. And, I _can’t_ control that much of my image. I _could_ act as a perfectly good boy in a stable relationship only waiting to get married and to have a white-picket-fence and 2.1 kids, but who will buy this bullshit? The truth is, I don’t have a romantic story where I ran across campus after graduation to share a first kiss with the love of my life before it’s too late, and came out on centre ice after winning the Stanley Cup in my rookie year. No, I met my boyfriend in a casino when I was gambling, and I blew him in the bathroom to thank him to not make me lose too much, and we were fuckbuddies at first and our first time can be summed up in a disastrous ‘but if I’m a bottom and _you’re_ a bottom, then who is flying the plane?’ that our friends find hilarious but my fans won’t so much, and the only way we’d ever get married is if we ever both get blackout drunk in an Elvis Chapel. I don’t look like a straight boy, and I want to stop to act like one.”

“So,” Jack stated, “you need to come out.”

“Yes, I want… I need to come out.”

“Even with all the shit you _know_ you’re going to get.”

“I need to.”

“Okay. Okay, I understand.”

 

He thought for a few seconds, before he asked:

 

“When do you plan to come out?”

“I… I don’t know. My contract ends with the season, so not before that.”

“Want advice?”

 

Not really, because last time Jack gave advice _did_ end up with someone scarred, and everyone scared, for life, but Kent liked pain a bit too much.

 

“By all means, do.”

“Come out before that.”

 

Jack lied. He didn’t get any better at giving advice.

 

“What?”

“Kent, you can’t resign in those conditions. You’re uncomfortable with your teammates, you’re not trusting management, you’re _afraid_ of PR. Do not resign with the Aces.”

“I still don’t think I should come out _before_ signing with another team. What if no one wants-“

“You are _Kent Parson_ , Kenny. Not third-line Lebrown. Teams _will_ want you. If you come out before signing, then you’ll know only teams ready to support you will contact your agent. None that would keep you in the closet. And yes, maybe some of the juicier contracts will be withdrawn, but honestly? Who cares if your salary goes down, it would still be an indecent seven-figures one.  Remember what my dad used to say to us, back in the Q?”

“Yeah.”

 

Yes, he did remember.

 

“ _Don’t let other people force you to do stuff you’re uncomfortable with_.”

 

 

 

**Eric R. Bittle**

**@omgcheckplease**

 

> Hello Kent, Bittle here I have a question… What the hecking hell did you say to Jack

>> uh……. iDK ???? why????? Like did he coplain or said I should be blacklistd or smtg

> No. It’s……

> I know he was on the phone with you

> And when he ended the call he right away called Lardo at six AM mind you and told, I quote “hey Lardo you’re still looking for nude photo models I want to be featured in every single of your exhibitions in the foreseeable future, Shitty must be put to shame”

>> oooops lol

> I mean I’m not against the idea wink wink and all that

> But what the hell

>> told him about how his coming out made the media desexualise him to make him less threatening by forcing him into the pattern of heteronormativity

> so he wants to puts shitty to shame with his dick and you of all people is doing it with your wokeness it’s 6 AM i have a train in 40 minutes and an exam in 2 hours this day is already the weirdest I have had so far in my life nothing could make it stranger

>> I want to come out

> ok I was wrong

>> IDK how to come out

> idnt it like 3 AM in vegas

>> I am a bit drunk

> ok but idk how you want to come out

> why you asking me we haven’t talked since like the beginning of our lives

>> bc your co was grandiose. Fabulous. The entire world will remember it for the centuries tocome, as long as hockey and queer ppl exist

> Oh sweet Lord. Yes. Yes they will. 

>> I want the same thing

>> I want people to think ‘he did that.’

> Leak a sex tape

>> PR would kill me. Literally. Someone got traded over a sextape

> your PR sounds like shit

>> if youknew

> idk like…. Just be yourself??? Unapologetically yourself

 

_Unapologetically yourself._

Now, that wasn’t something new.

Kent silently slipped into Tim’s bed, and the other man, not yet sleeping, groaned when Kent tried to grab one of the two pillows he was hoarding.

Kent kissed him behind the ear and spooned him. He loved it. He was comfortable.

“Babe, what about quitting this job you don’t like?” Kent shushed.

“Ready when you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cant believe I need to precise this to some of y'all, but no orgies in prison will happen in this fanfiction???? I won't give names but Booooi
> 
> There's three chapters left; I won't be able to post next Wednesday, so I'll be back in one week !  
> Thanks everyone for your support !


	7. Thursday afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What goes on the internet stays on the internet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the lateness, but I hadn't thought it's take so long to formate and couldn't do it before work/eurovision yesterday.... i hope you'll enjoy it !

Thursday morning, Kent left to get to his place. He arrived right before some of the guys rang him to get his ass downstairs so they’d all jog to practice.

He was _tired._ He didn’t even get to have morning sex. He was so stressed he hadn’t gotten laid for a week even, and it was criminal.

Jogging in those conditions was criminal.

 

“So, Cap, what do you think?”

“What?”

 

He was so focused on not falling asleep while running that he hadn’t heard that the boys were trying to talk to him.

 

“I said,” Ritter began, “my girlfriend-“

 

_Uh._

 

“-she showed me a new series you might like. It’s quite funny, about people working in a store. I’ll send you the name.”

“’Kay.”

“That’s the kind of shows you like, Cap?” Teds asked. “Sitcoms and comedy? I would have taken you more for a drama kind of guy.”

“Theodore, listen to this; life is sad enough as it is. I don’t need no more drama in the media I consume.”

 

He seemingly managed to sound wise, because several of the boys nodded along.

 

“So, who else has stuff to rec me?”

 

Practice in itself was intense. They had another home game the following day, before they left for a roadie. When Kent arrived home in the beginning of afternoon, he was exhausted. And he still had to work out all afternoon.

In theory.

He instead sat on the bench on the balcony, with a fresh beer, his Dior sunglasses, his phone and Kit.

_Now or never, bitch._

He had sent a few texts to Filip, Jamal, Tony and Oliver this morning, and they all replied with their agreement since. Perfect. Now…

 

 

**To: kivel.john@agency-tshc.com**

**From: kentvparson@gmail.com**

**Subject: On contracts**

 

Hi John,

I hope you haven’t spent too much time on the propositions I’ve been offered up until now because OH BOI some things are about to happen

Good day and good luck,

 

Kent Vincent Parson

 

 

**_ Aces on Ice _ **

**Parsley** ** (Black Club Suit ≊ Club Suit) **

>> hey it’s thrsday

**Scrappy** ** (Party Popper ) **

> thx cap

**Rems like the biscuits not the band**

> we wouldn’t be shit w/o u cap

**Parsley** ** (Black Club Suit ≊ Club Suit) **

>> what are all the cool kids doin like

>> throwback thursdas?

>> let’s do that on twitter

**Swooooooops**

> lame

**Gecko**

> What are those?

**Gemini** ** (Gemini ) **

> What, we post embarrassing pictures of ourselves

**Parsley** ** (Black Club Suit ≊ Club Suit) **

>> na

>> not embarrassing enough

>> let’s post embarrassing pictures of *each other*

**Bratfoy, Draco Bratfoy**

> perfect Ritt you’re going DOWN (Imp )

**Ritter-sports**

> u do that I kill you in real life

**Carl-hilton**

> Is that the picture I’m thinking about because if so YES GO BRATTY

**Parsley** ** (Black Club Suit ≊ Club Suit) **

>> still have this video of Carl’s twin bro puking on the pavement an crying about how un-hold baby ducks were

>> I could tell Twitter it’s carl and ppl would be none the wiser

**Scraps**

> lol you wouldn’t

**Rems like the biscuits not the band**

> YOU WOULDN’T

**Swooooooops**

> YOU W O U L D N T

**Carl-hilton**

> Wanna play Parse? Bc I can play

> Still have this video of your clone in te gay clug

> I can post it and say it’s u

**Parsley** ** (Black Club Suit ≊ Club Suit) **

>> wait no you wouldn’t

**Carl-hilton**

> I WOULD

**Parsley** ** (Black Club Suit ≊ Club Suit) **

>> Oh, bother :’(

 

**Jeff, Kent**

> Cap the hell

>> (Smiling Face With Sunglasses ) cap needs more space in his closet for his Louboutins and his brand new adidas

 

**Teds, Kent**

> I thought you didn’t like drama

>> I don’t like drama I live it

 

Kent took a few breathes. It was still time to back out. But… He needed to do it. Now. Before he had a heart attack because of how tense he was whenever one of his teammates was in his phone. Before he lost his nerve. Because he needed to get the fuck out of Vegas. He took a sip of his beer, and posted on Twitter the video of Carl’s twin, tagging Carl in it.

The reply didn’t take long.

 

 

**e-Carl-y** **✔** **@carly-carl**

[video]

Remember when we saw @kvpofficial’s clone in a gay club?

**Kent Parson** **✔** **@kvpofficial**

_Replying to_ @carly-carl @kvpofficial

TFW your clone looks more like you than you do, so no one even notice your gay ass shaking on the left

**Hilary Delarue @hilahellax**

_Replying to_ @carly-carl @kvpofficial

Holy shit it’s Parson

**Bubasaur @franck-tyler3**

_Replying to_ @carly-carl @kvpofficial

I have no idea of what happening but, holy shit it’s parson

**Tedsy Bears** **✔** **@theodorejameson**

_Replying to_ @carly-carl @kvpofficial

(Face Without Mouth ) Holy shit parson

**Kent Parson FC @kentfanclubofficial**

_Replying to_ @carly-carl @kvpofficial

HOLY. SHIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!!!!!!!!1!!

_See the 152 other replies…._

 

**i-Carl-y** **✔** **@carly-carl**

Holy shit it’s Parson.

**i-Carl-y** **✔** **@carly-carl**

Truly I didnt notice Parson guys

**i-Carl-y** **✔** **@carly-carl**

Parson are you gay wtf

 

 

**Swoooooops** **✔** **@jefftroy**

@kvpofficial Bro

**Kent Parson** **✔** **@kvpofficial**

@jefftroy Bro

**Swoooooops** **✔** **@jefftroy**

@kvpofficial Brooo

**Kent Parson** **✔** **@kvpofficial**

@jefftroy Broooooooooooo

 

 

**Swooparse fan @kittiecat**

[screenshot of Kent and Jeff’s ‘bro’ exchange]

Time of death: 13:41 #holyshititsparson #swooparse #imdying

 

 

**Kent Parson FC @kentfanclubofficial**

Okay so everyone, do not freak out. This is not an exercise. We think that Kent may have just come out. Maybe not. Probably has #holyshititsparson

**Rayna Oakland @blackstarz**

_Replying to_ @kentfanclubofficial

Which part of K talking about his “gay ass” in a gay club doesn’t sounds like CO to you

**Amelia Duran @kentswife**

_Replying to_ @kentfanclubofficial

IDK if you’ve noticed but the boys are all posting bad pictures making fun of each other since the beginning of the afternoon! It’s maybe a joke!

**Kent Parson FC @kentfanclubofficial**

Yeah that @kentswife but honestly don’t get your hopes up I doubt you’ll marry him anytime soon

**Julia Lop @bunnyhop**

_Replying to_ @kentfanclubofficial

No I think the same!! We’d have known if he was gay! He was seen with model Natasha Kolisevska last month

**Ya Boi Jamie @itsyaboime**

_Replying to_ @kentfanclubofficial

Are y’all shittin me there’s nothing straight about that veido

**Kent Parson** **✔** **@kvpofficial**

_Replying to_ @kentfanclubofficial

im gay

**Kent Parson FC @kentfanclubofficial**

Thanks for the confirmation, best of wishes from the whole admin team!

 

 

_Kent Parson retweeted_

**Eric Bittle** **✔** **@omgcheckplease**

@kvpofficial you did that.

 

 

**Amelia Duran @kentswife**

OK so I don’t think that @kvpofficial is gay. If he really was, his friend wouldn’t have outed him. That’s an awful dick move #holyshititsparson #orisit

*** ~Giber-rich~ * @acesvegas-67**

_Replying to @kentswife_

Is he indeed has been outed by Carl, then I wouldn’t be surprised. The guy does seem to be a dick

**Sae Baz @carlkentfan**

_Replying to @kentswife_

Is that a joke @acesvegas-67?????????????

*** ~Giber-rich~ * @acesvegas-67**

_Replying to @kentswife_

@carlkentfan do you want to fight me ill fight you

**Kent Parson** **✔** **@kvpofficial**

_Replying to @kentswife_

I can’t beliee im about to do that but no carl didn’t out me he truly didn’t notice me on the vid….. hes still a dick tho

 

 

_Kent Parson retweeted_

**Fil Hip @knockedofflouboutin**

@kvpofficial they truly didn’t notice you despite all this glitter??? I guess I just look THAT good (Face With Stuck-Out Tongue And Winking Eye ) #holyshititsparson

 

**Kent Parson** **✔** **@kvpofficial**

Gotta admit im flattered to be confused with @knockedofflouboutin. He was voted ass and abs of the year at the club. Im still better looking than him tho

**Ya Boi Jamie @itsyaboime**

_Replying to_ @kvpofficial

Even if he beat you?

**Kent Parson** **✔** **@kvpofficial**

Only because I was the referee

 

 

**Swooparse Fandom @swooparseofficial**

Hi everyone, it’s a huge day for our fandom. Kent just came out, and I won’t need to remind you the exchange he had with Jeff right after. The literally are together. Our ship sails, people. I’m crying #holyshititsparson #swooparse

**Hella Nah @hannah.aces**

_Replying to_ @swooparseofficial

At everyone saying we are stupid: fuck you we win

**Talor Addddd @taylhockey**

_Replying to_ @swooparseofficial

My skin is clear my crops are watered and im thriving it’s the best day of my life

**Sae Baz @carlkentfan**

_Replying to_ @swooparseofficial

Please it doesn’t mean shit for your stupid ship stfu

**Kent Parson** **✔** **@kvpofficial**

_Replying to_ @swooparseofficial

Y are strangers so emotionaly involved in whetheror not im fucking swoops dude hes my bestfriend I know where his dick has been this thing doesnt come anyway near any part of me ever

 

 

**Kent Parson** **✔** **@kvpofficial**

K so I googled what a ship is and apparenty between one or another story about me and @jefftroy or @jacklzimmermann some people want me and @carly-carl to fuck im calling the cops

**Fil Hip @knockedofflouboutin**

_Replying to_ @kvpofficial

Oh yas call the cops so they send me to kink jail yeeees

**Kent Parson** **✔** **@kvpofficial**

@knockedofflouboutin As soon as there is the zombie apocalypse im killing you even if youre not yet infected

 

 

_Kent Parson retweeted_

**Jack Zimmermann** **✔** **@jacklzimmermann**

Congratulations to my friend @Kent for coming out. I know how huge of a step it can be for anyone, and how much it meant for him to finally be able to live out of the closet. I only hope good things for you :-)

 

_Kent Parson retweeted_

**Jack Zimmermann** **✔** **@jacklzimmermann**

How do you arobase people

 

 

_Kent Parson retweeted_

**NHL** **✔** **@NHL**

Congratulations to Vegas Aces captain Kent Parson for the brave act of coming out. The whole league wishes you well!

 

_Kent Parson retweeted_

**You Can Play Project** **✔** **@youcanplayteam**

We would like to express our support to Las Vegas Aces’ team captain, Kent Parson, for coming out today. @kvpofficial, #youcanplay!

 

 

**Kent Parson** **✔** **@kvpofficial**

[Picture of Kent taken at the club, Saturday night. It was probably the beginning of the evening, because he seems sober, and more or less fully dressed. Glitter is involved.]

Look my outfit was on point this night!

**Caren Parson @cspofficial**

_Replying to_ @kvpofficial

Y did you undress then your gonn make grandma sad

**Kent Parson** **✔** **@kvpofficial**

Listen sis vegas is hot and so am i

 

 

**Kent Parson** **✔** **@kvpofficial**

Thx paps for successfully cockblocking me

[screenshots: String of texts. The name of the other person has been cropped out.

> Ken what the hell did you do

>> Oh you know, the usual, fed Kit, watched TV, came out to the world NBD when u coming (Sparkling Heart )

> Gosh that explaisn the 2k paparazzis in front of your building

> Couldn’t get past the crowd so I went back home

> D’:]

**Actual Dealer @timshauch**

_Replying to_ @kvpofficial

@kvpofficial lol hun as if you’d have gotten laid tonight

**Kent Parson @kvpofficial**

@timshauch baaaaabe [sad gif]

 

**To: kentvparson@gmail.com**

**From: kivel.john@agency-tshc.com**

**Subject: Re:On contracts**

Hello Kent,

What are you talking about.

Best regards,

John Kivel

 

**To: kentvparson@gmail.com**

**From: kivel.john@agency-tshc.com**

**Subject: Re:On contracts**

OH

With all due respect, Kent, what the fuck

 

**To: kentvparson@gmail.com**

**From: kivel.john@agency-tshc.com**

**Subject: Re:On contracts**

Please warn me earlier next time you plan on doing such a stunt. Let’s meet in about a week to talk about how the propositions and your wants evolve.

Have a good day and good luck,

John Kivel

 

 

**From: fiona.terrence@vegasaces.pr.com**

**To: kent.parson@vegasaces.py.com**

**Subject: dude**

Hi,

We never met, I am Fiona, intern in PR since last month. I’m contacting you on behalf of Sandra (the PR boss, not the other Sandra in PR) who tried to call you six times already. I understand that you want to avoid her right now. I wish I could avoid her right now. Although, I think you should try to call her sometime? I just don’t know if you should do it soon, before she decides to rip you a new one in real life or if you should wait for her to calm down.

Also, congrats on coming out, and may I ask you for your club address? It’s only been a few weeks I’m in Vegas and I haven’t really found any queer space that isn’t riled with tourists only here for a night. I really like your heels, where did you get them?

Good luck,

Fiona TERRENCE,

Intern in Public Relationship at the Vegas Aces, XXX-XXX-XXXX

 

**From: kent.parson@vegasaces.py.com**

**To : fiona.terrence@vegasaces.pr.com**

**Subject: Re:dude**

thx gonna phone when shes a bit calmer but not ttly dw I knw the drill /w her by now

the club is mostly /w a publc of gay men but theres a lesbian bar across from us and on tuessday we exchange (girls night @my club bois night @the bar) and on fridays its co-ed (well technically every nights but girls/bois nights are coed but Friday are marketed as coed) just tell me when u want ill bring ya

those heels are club heels sothey’re cheap comfy shit I probs got in arandom shop downtown an ppl who saw me though I was shopping for my gf or smtg…….. lol 4 real half the tiem the clerc is liek “oh so u have the same shoe size as u gf??? That’s fate lol…. I mean u have the same size but u sure u wanna try em” lol little do they know

kisses

kent

 

**From: fiona.terrence@vegasaces.pr.com**

**To: kent.parson@vegasaces.py.com**

**Subject: Re:Re:dude**

how can people even read you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter next saturday :)
> 
> I'm going back to formate it better when I come back from work, so don't hesitate pointing out if somethins is not clear and/or badly done


	8. Friday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long story short story, I hadn't finished the chapter last week and I broke a toe, so no way to finish on time. Here it is now, though !

Friday’s game was an afternoon game, and Kent didn’t come to the non-optional skate in the morning.

Really, he tried. But he had to phone to Coach Pete, to tell him “I’m sorry but I literally cannot go out of my building without being mobbed”, to which Coach Pete replied “There is just as much paparazzis and reporters in front of the rink. We’ll find something for the match.”

 

The something to get Kent to his rink was to ask Tim and Jones to pick him up at the end of the morning in his building’s garage -Tim had a double of the badge, even if he had no car- to drop him off at the rink.

Considering that everyone there was massed at the side entrance, where players usually went in, Kent, a black hoodie on, could just walk in through the main door without being noticed.  

 

“Wanna come?” he had asked Jones and Tim on the parking lot, when he was still in the backseat of the car.

“To watch the staff assassinate you? No way in hell,” Tim laughed. “I gotta go to work to talk with my bosses anyway. Well, future ex-bosses, I guess.”

“Uh, yes, that. Good luck.”

“I hope you won’t mind paying my rent for a while, because I ain’t gonna find a new job anytime soon.”

“Or else you could just move in with me.”

 

Kent regretted saying it the moment the words came out of his big mouth. Tim stayed quiet and stilled. _Shit_. That’s _not_ how Kent ever planned to do that, ever. They never talked about it, they never mentioned it, and right here right now it was definitely not the place, and even less the time.

In the front seat, Jones was looking at Kent through the rear-view mirror, then at Tim next to himself, then said:

 

“I’m right here, guys.”

“Yes, yes, I’m out,” Kent hastily said. “Kiss?”

 

Tim sighed, but when he turned around to kiss Kent he was smiling.

 

“Still right here. Haven’t moved.”

 

So now Kent was _all alone_ walking through the rink, and he didn’t know what was waiting for him. Considering the hour, the guys were probably all eating lunch, and considering his phone that was still buzzing, the staff was doubtlessly trying to find where the hell he was.

He first stopped to see Sandra, before she kills him.

At least, he had been able to meet Fiona? Well, meet. She was at the other side of the room, trying to hide behind her computer screen, while Sandra was freaking out at Kent, and she just shared a grimace with Kent once Sandra went out of breath and of things to yell. Kent himself hadn’t said a single word, knowing better.

 

“I’m going to have a smoke. And I quitted smoking, Kent, look what you make me do.”

“Sorry that me sucking cock literally forces you to inflict cancer upon yourself. I finally understand how the Gays are nefarious to society.”

 

Aaaand she went off again.

Fiona was still hiding, but she was chuckling.

 

It was Dennis, the assistant manager that finally saved him by picking him up to lead him to the rest of the team.

 

“Glad you could make it, despite the… Incident. Try not to talk about it in post-game interviews, before, we need to have a management reunion to determine what to do from here.”

 

Okay, so it be like that.

 

“Sure, if someone asks me anything about my coming out, I’ll tell them that management told me to shut up about it.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“You just told me not to talk about it,” Kent said, deciding he should try to feel amused rather than hurt.

“Yes, but you can’t just say it like that-”

“What about ‘I’m forbidden to answer any question about my sexuality until management has a crisis meeting to know how to deal with it, and I can’t wait to be greenlighted to talk about this very important part of me I had to keep under wraps for so many years because of the lack of support in my direct entourage and in the league in general’?”

 

Dennis took a deep breath, and told him, looking at him straight in the eye:

 

“Ok, we’re gonna have the management meeting before the game. Come by one in my office. I’ll call the staff in.”

 

He didn’t wait for Kent to answer and proceeded to bring him to the break room where the players were having lunch and chilling. Just before letting him go, Dennis said:

 

“I don’t think you realise how deeply in the shit you’re putting us, Parson.”

“I can rec you all a good brand of anal douches, if it can help you with this issue.”

 

He didn’t seem to appreciate this subtle joke, because he left to his office without even turning back. And Kent was alone in front of the door of the break room.

You can do it, Parson.

Maybe not. You don’t have to.

Go put water on your face to calm down, Parson.

But before he could move towards the bathroom, the door opened wide and Ritter, right behind was looking at him with surprised eyes.

 

“Oh! Parse! You’re here!”

 

Oh, shit.

 

Kent stepped in the break room with hesitation, his knuckles white around his phone. The guys turned towards him, and he had no idea of what he should do.

Should he ignore them? Give a speech? Wait for someone to say something?  

God, it was much easier to be brave in front of your computer. Kent suddenly understood trolls and haters, now that he had everyone’s eyes on him.

Carl and Kanner were at the other side of the breakroom, on the couch. Teds, Debbs and Gemini, right next to where he was standing. Scraps and Swoops, that he was looking for, near the entrance to the trainer’s room, playing cards. Swoops winked at him, and Scraps gave him some fingerguns.

 

“Uh, I’m gay,” Kent said.

“No shit, Sherlock.” The first who replied was Scraps, who tried to throw his sandwich paper at him, and missing horribly because it was Scraps.

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock,” Kanner said.

 

Both had mocking tones.

But Scraps was Kent’s friend, never said anything queerphobic, had sent the day before a congratulations text made of 52 rainbows and 64 stars and obviously was just teasing, because that’s what Scraps do.

Kanner was a piece of shit, and let’s say that Kent wouldn’t say he’d _kill him_ because it’s rude to imply you’d kill people, but that if Kanner one day was murdered the police wouldn’t waste that much time if they decided to investigate around Parse.

 

“I also am your captain and have more individual trophies than most of you put together,” Kent said, staring straight at Kanner and Carl, “so if I were you I’d think twice before cracking a joke, making a homophobic comment or talking shit about me, my boyfriend, or anyone else for what’s matter.”

 

Gemini opened his mouth. Kent saw him from the corner of his eye.

 

“Did I stutter?” Parse slowly articulated, putting his hand on the rookie’s shoulder.

 

Gemini shook his head.

 

“Then shut up.”

 

And with that, Kent went to sit next to Swoops, his shaking hands in his hoodie and only focusing on the table he was walking to.

 

“What was this attempt of a power move right here?” Swoops teased.

“His life is an attempt of a power move,” Scraps said, shuffling the cards on the table.

“Shadap- I’m doing pretty good that far, I think.”

“Well, _this_ power move worked, because I think half of the people here are scared to look at you now.”

“Great, Swoops. As they should be. So, what we playin’?”  

“It’s Dourak, you know it?”

“Listen, Scraps, now that I don’t risk to out my ass I can tell you: it’s been months I know all the goddamn cards games you think you’re teaching me. I swear to God; those shits are like foreplay to my boyfriend. So deal me in and get ready to lose the little of what’s left of your dignity.”

 

* * *

 

 

Mentally speaking, Kent knew that he wouldn’t be traded. The trade deadline had been well passed already, and the playoffs were right around the corner, and well. He saw it as a relief before, but now that he actually was out? Now that he had this ‘emergency’ meeting with the staff (and, thank god, his agent had been able to come even if it was a last-minute meeting, of course Dennis did it on purpose, and Swoops and Scraps insisted to be here too as his A’s and honestly Kent wouldn’t have survived without the three of them having his back while he was re-read every single clause of his contract by what seemed to be half of the staff of the Aces)? Well, oh boi he now wished to be shipped to Alaska. He’d FedEx himself if it was legal (it’s not, he checked the minute they were out of Dennis’ office). And, to his defence, he was _exhausted_. He had spent the afternoon and the night before on the phone with John and Tim and his family. Barely had a lick of sleep.

So, yeeeeeah, if the teamwork was infinitesimal tonight, that was understandable.

At least they won, even if barely, because the opposite team was shit and no one knew what to make of Kent, be it the other players or even a good part of the public -even if a small chunk of it knew exactly which slurs to yell, that a thankfully bigger and louder portion managed to drown out with their chants and rainbow flags- and Kent had Things To Prove™ and a fair amount of Salt© in him, so he assisted the only goal of the game, that Swoops scored. And Swoops was a great guy, so the two of them dedicated it to the part of the public full of rainbow flags.

 

On the way to the locker room, both Swoops and Kent got hoarded by reporters. Kent would have liked to slip away and let Jeff talk about his goal without being here to overshadow him, but he also knew that he wouldn’t have any other chance tonight to get the few words he wanted to say without having Sandra breathing down his neck, so he stayed. He already had missed his chance during the pre-game interviews (a staff member or another had constantly been around him to butt in the conversation and forbid Kent to say what he planned to) and no press conference had been organised after.

But now he wanted to go to bed.

The first question went to Swoops, who happily and lengthily replied (as he perfectly knew that once the reporters would stop to act as if they hadn’t noticed Kent, he wouldn’t be talking much more)

The second was also for him, as for the third-

 

“So, Kent…”

“I’m tired and incredibly gay, and would be happy to talk about it and the whys and hows of my coming out at length at any other moment, I don’t plan to ever marry my boyfriend but I love him very much, and if Louboutin wants me to model for his heels, just hit my agent or DM me on Insta. Now excuse me, but I just want to get a shower and then go to bed for three days.”

 

And he left to the locker room, letting Swoops to his interview.

Kent went straight to his phone, ignoring the players and WAGs already there, but Tim hadn’t sent a message. He replied to his sister’s, before undressing and hitting the showers, taking the one between Scraps and Ritter because Scraps wouldn’t make it weird and Ritter was weird.

Jeff joined them a few minutes later, and hearing him arriving made Kent realised that maybe he should actually shower, and not just stand under the water.

The two of them went out at the same time, while Scraps was already dressed and waiting for them, and when they left the locker room Kent almost forgot his jersey.

 

“Don’t mock me now, I pray.” Kent said in the hallway to his chuckling asshole friends.

“You’re _that_ tired, uh?” Swoops asked. “If you didn’t spend the night on your screens-“

“I’m not _that_ tired,” Kent said, opening the break room door. “But I haven’t had sex in one week, bro. I _do_ plan to spend the night in bed. By the way, can you drop me at Tim’s?” he asked. “Don’t have my car.”

“Always happy to save your sex life, bro,” Swoops replied, standing right in front of the table where Kent just sat, grinning at his own phone.  

 

Kent threw his empty Gatorade bottle to his face.

 

“You better be, considering the number of times I wing-maned your ass.”

 

Jeff didn’t reply right away, instead grinning some more, as he texted something and then turned to Kent with a shit-eating smile.

 

“All the wing-manning you did is nothing next to the wing-manning you’re about to get.”

 

And then.

And then nothing.

 

Jeff’s smile grew a bit sour.

 

“-the wing-manning you’re about to get.”

“… Yes?” Kent frowned, before he drank half of a water bottle, fixing Swoops with uncertainty. Scraps, next to him, didn’t seem much more aware of what the hell was happening.

“Yeah well _, I_ ’m doing my _best,_ but if _someone_ would-“

“Heeey!”

 

The greeting came from behind Swoop’s frame, at the door. Kent leant aside, just enough to see if it _really_ was-

And yes, it _really_ was. In the doorway of the break room, there was Tim, and behind him Filip and Ann, all three wearing Aces Jerseys.

Kent smiled like an idiot.

 

“You are late,” Swoops began.

“I’m sorry,” Tim replied, waving his phone, as he walked towards them while trying to ignore everyone’s looks. “The reception is terrible.”

“Wait, Tims, you got Swoops number’s?” Kent asked, so overwhelmed he didn’t know what he was supposed to be surprised about.

 

Tim arrived right in front of him, and Ann and Filip were probably still right behind, but Kent couldn’t look away from Tim’s face.

The fucker. So, that was where his Gucci shades were. They were proudly shining at the top of his cap. Kent’s Aces cap. And that was _his_ jersey, too. Did Tim even own clothes at this point?

 

“We exchanged numbers while you were having a munchies crisis in front of the fridge. He got us seats and passes. But, not the point. The point is: good game.”

“This game was shite.”

“I definitely do not know hockey enough to actually know.”

“Yeah same, but it was objectively bad,” Ann suddenly cut in.

 

This drew Kent’s attention away from his boyfriend - _his boyfriend! Here!!?-_ to realise that every single pair of eyes in the break room were on them.

At least, most were trying to be discreet, but Gemini was openly staring. Kent just glared at him, and the rookie looked down.

 

“You came? Didn’t you have a meeting with your bosses?” he finally asked, when Tim took a seat next to him at the table.

“I had a meeting at noon, your game was at eight, I surprisingly managed to make it.”

“Ha ha.”

“Went by your apartment at picked up Kit and your roadie suitcase and your overnight bag, so we can just go straight to my place.”

“Gosh, I emoji-locomotive you,” Kent chirped.

“Aw, thanks, fourteen periods,” Tim replied.

 

It was weird to have Tim here, in the break room, surrounded by teammates and knowing very well that staff members weren’t that far.

They were sitting next to each other, and Kent’s was turned towards Tim, but at the same time, they weren’t touching, and Kent really wanted to kiss him, but he couldn’t. He has always been less brave than Jack.

 

“I’m happy you came.” Kent said, and he braced himself to grab Tim’s hand under the table, where no one could ever see because they were hidden by Ann and Swoops and Filip sitting across from them.

“We wanted to go to the locker room at first, but then I talked with Anna and Filip and we realised how bad of an idea it was. So Jeff texted us the way to the breakroom.”

“How was it, with the bosses?”

“Haha- Jamal and Dana -you know, my manager- came to the office with me because I freaked out – and I’m promoted,” his boyfriend said, squeezing his hand.

“ _What?”_

“’Promoted’ to manager, where the patrons can’t see me. Behind-the-scene stuff and lot of paperwork I guess. I already know it will be awful. Save me. Also my boss wants an autograph for her son. How was it with _your_ bosses?”

“Let’s talk about it at home,” Kent simply said.

“You’re promoted? That’s a weird take on ‘sleeping your way to the top’” Swoops chirped.

“Congrats on the promotion?” Scraps tried.

 

Hearing him made Kent start, and he turned towards everyone.

 

“I’m sorry! Uh. Timmy, Ann, Filip, this is Jeff Troy and Laslo Austin. We like them. Swoops and Scraps, Tim, Ann, and Filip. Who is my doppelgänger.”

“So you’re the other guy who put up with Ken all day?” Tim asked Scraps.

“And you, the one who puts up with him all night? You’re a brave man. I’ve roomed with him on roadies for years.”

“I can’t really talk, I think I’m just as bad as him. But I heard a _lot_ about you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Scraps laughed. “Parse can’t stop talking about me.”

“Nah, not from Ken.”

 

Hearing Tim, Filip turned around to show the back of his jersey -that wasn’t sporting a big PARSON like Ann’s and Tim’s, but Scrap’s name and number instead.

 

“I’m a big fan,” he said, winking.

“Don’t say that around my girlfriend, she’s going to get ideas.”

“Really, Filip?” Kent whined. “A ‘AUSTIN’ jersey? When I most need your support? I trusted you and you betrayed me so? I am your friend, and you prefer-“

“Technically, I am Tim’s friend before being yours.”

“Yeah, stop stealing my friends, Ken.”

 

Ken just hid his face in his arms on the table to try to get pity points and get the vicious slander around his person to stop, but truly, the only pity he got was Tim’s hand rubbing his tight. It made Scraps and Swoops laugh, at least.

 

“But Tim”, Scraps asked and Kent knew from his tone that he won’t like what he was about to say, “tell me more about how you just called him ‘Ken’…”

“Well, I picked it, because he does have a Barbie’s Ken vibe, doesn’t he? But, in gay. Well, it’s not like Barbie’s Ken looks very straight to begin with…”

“We also call him ‘Vin’ or ‘Vince’ at the club”, Ann teased.

“You know what the rules about petnames are…”

“Holy shit, no! Swoops, why did you invite them?”

 

They didn’t stay long after that -just long enough for Kent to pay his first couple-related fine, ever- before they went to a get-together that Swoops improvised at his place with some of the guys who hadn’t left to party with the others.

But, by midnight, Tim and Kent were hand-in-hand in a Lyft to go back home. Today had been exhausting, and if anything, tomorrow wouldn’t get any better.

 

“I saw the small interview you managed to give,” Tim said with a gentle tone, breaking the silence in the middle of the trip. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan to ever marry you either, but…”

“But?” Kent softly smiled.

“When Louboutin hit you up, do not forget to ask for a pair of Pigalle for me.”

“Love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked, last chapter next week ! 
> 
> As you can see, it is now part of a series. I already plan to do one more one-shot happening later than the week in which the story is contained, maybe more.


	9. Saturday morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! A bit late, but I'm busy organising some stuff for the Visibility March of my city.  
> I just finished the last chapter, and it being longer than the others, I decided to divide it in two -the second part arrives Wednesday.  
> As always, thanks istadris for forcing me to sleep
> 
> Thanks everyone for reading, hope you enjoy !

**Kent Parson** **✔** **@kvpofficial**

I think that its important for everyone to know that while I find that marriage is an institution that is def Not For Me but I’d marry Britney Spears in a heartbeat

**Kent Parson** **✔** **@kvpofficial**

dont quote me like “gay guy against gay marriage” im all for queer ppl having the right to get married&get divorced and be able to make the active decision to not marry

[Instagram picture of Tim, asleep in his bed. It’s dark, and Tim is drooling, topless, and all in all is looking like a mess but not in a sexy way. The timestamp is 1:13]

**kent-person** Blessed (See-No-Evil Monkey )(Person With Folded Hands ≊ Folded Hands)(Firework Sparkler ≊ Sparkler)………. @timochart  

Load more comments

**laslostin** ‘I never say bless because I only feel blessed after great sex’ – Kent Parson, 12th september 2014

**jeff.troy** ‘people using the monkey emoji should be sent to zoos, for that they’re not really human’ – Kent Parson, 12th September 2015

**laslostin** is his only purpose in life to get a memorable quote at every single of your birthday

**jlzimmermann** ‘I don’t get facebook and stuff like that, why would people post pictures of their private life on the Internet’ – Kent Parson, 12th September 2008, at Gothy’s birthday’s party

**60k likes**

_The Hollywood Gossip - Sports_

**Who is Kent Parson’s beau?**

It was quite a surprise for all of us to see Las Vegas’ Aces star and captain, Kent Parson, coming out last Thursday on Twitter. A lot of articles already have speculated on what it meant for the hockey world to have such an influential player (Parson is in the top 5 of the most well-paid players of the league, and the youngest among them, and commonly accepted as one of the best-looking hockey players) coming out of the closet, in such a fabulous way…

[Picture: the photo Kent posted on twitter, of him in the club to show off his outfit, full of glitter and wearing heels]

… But none answered the question: who is the boy who stole this heartthrob to the world?

And it was surprisingly harder than expected to answer. Because the only thing linking the two of them is this thread of tweets:

[Embed tweet: the texts Kent sent Tim, and the replies, including Kent calling him ‘babe’]

A quick visit of his and his friends’ Twitter and Instagram accounts can tell us that all the info we will get about it will be superficial: indeed, he is not a fellow celebrity, far from it. 

>

[Selfie of Tim and Filip in front of the Bellagio, taken from his Instagram. Filip really looks like Kent in this one. There’s a 50% chance that the author of the article really thought it was Kent.]

So, what do we know of him? Timothy Hauchart, recently turned 31, is originally from Des Moines and arrived in Las Vegas five years ago, where he works as a croupier somewhere on the Strip. And participate to a _lot_ of poker tournaments. Cards and games in general seems to be his Thing.  

[Instagram picture from @Anninanann of Tim, in a bar, getting handed a huge jug of mojito by Ann and Lydia. There are a lot of cards on the tables around, and a public applauding. Kent is among them but there are 50% of chances the author hasn’t noticed. The caption is: Congrats to the first winner of our first Game Night, @timochart, king of all cards! Come next month to try to win your own jugs of alcohol or soft drinks!  #BarSaphisticated #gamenight #lgbtbar

A second Instagram picture, from Tim’s account, of a game of the Pokemon TCG on Zoroark-themed playmats. One of the sides is clearly losing. The caption is: “Teaching the boyfriend to play TCG but he doesn’t know any pokemon that isn’t pikachu or Charizard. It’s painful”]

So those are the passions of this man: cards, gambling, alcohol, and… Trains. Yes, trains. He seems to be quite passionate about trains, if it’s any indication:

[Tim’s tweets thread from a year ago. They’re misspelled but very, very Opiniated. It begins with “bear with me im drunk but the train situation is TERRIBLE”, followed by a huge lot of statistics, comparison with Europe, descriptions of different trains, maps, a MS-Paint-drawn plan of possible new lines to preach for the development of trains in the US. They are way too many tweets, for, visibly, way not enough trains. It concludes with “and that’s y I don’t trust planes or hroses”]

This Timothy is, in the end, still quite mysterious, but he still seems to be a romantic at heart.  

[Tim’s tweet from November of this year:

**Actual Dealer @timshauch**

All the heteros be singin about how love is about sacrifice n yet they cant truly understand what sacrifice is if they havent fallen in love with another bottom]

Thankfully, now he’s got a Kent Parson to take care of him!

 

**parse-arse-62**

Everyone in my family as freaking out because kent parson is gay and here I was, freaking out because he’s gay for _that_

You deserve someone good enough for your glorious ass buddy

**__________**

**satansthrussy**

what the fucking fuck fuck fuckin fuck is wrong with you OP

**__________**

**swooparse-by-night**

I think that OP is just, like many of us, disappointed to see that Kent Parson settled down for someone so average when he could literally have any guy in the world.

**__________**

**felife-peridot**

Yes,,, the guy also seems to be spending all of Kent’s money gambling?

**__________**

**satansthrussy**

yeah exactly what I said what the fucking fuck fuck fuckin fuck is wrong with you OP and with you too

please show us all how progressist and open minded you are by criticising what his bf looks like

“he sends all of kent’s money gambling” you kidding what do you know your their banker?????

“average” average my ass average doesn’t exist you do not know the guy how dare you imply he’s “not good enough” for your dear kent that, may I remind y’all, you don’t know either

 

 

**acesparses**

Ok so remember this quote of Kent Parson that I always thought I _purposefully_ misquoted in a gay context

I’m thriving

__________

**hockeydokey**

I went through my calendar of hockey quotes because I _knew_ what you were talking about and yes. Yes, oh boi, that was gay. It had actually always been gay

**__________**

**ihcgodasalesbian**

Okay what u talk about

**__________**

**acesparses**

This gem

[Video of a post-game interview from the Ace’s last Stanley Cup win. Kent just stepped out of the ice and seems a bit confued by everything happening at once. He was the best scorer this season and scored a hat trick in this game.

Reporter: _Parson, what it’s like being at the top?_

Parson, after blinking a few times _: I…. Uh... The top should take a lesson in humility. The top is nothing without the bottom, he needs the bottom to **be** the top, while the bottom can thrive all by himself. The top needs the bottom to exist. But the bottom? The bottom needs no one. They’re the ones who should be celebrated._

_**__________** _

**hockeydokey**

You: Kent Parson gave an inspirational quote about encouraging players who are not at the top level

Me, an intellectual: Kent Parson worships bottoms

**__________**

**satansthrussy**

Me, a double intellectual (I have a PhD): Kent parson IS a bottom

**__________**

**meme-pas-qu-habs**

Me, a triple intellectual (I was fourth at my elementary school’s spelling bee): he’s a bottom and he calls to the popular revolution to overthrow the bourgeoisie and the capital

 

 

[Instagram picture of Kent, asleep in Tim’s bed. It’s the morning, and it’s Kent’s turn to look like a mess. Drool and snot are involved, and he sleeps the mouth wide open. His sexiness is a strong 2/10, but still, he has so much hickeys an octopus probably strangled him during the night]

**timochart** @kent-person Blessed (Smiling Cat Face With Heart-Shaped Eyes )(Speak-No-Evil Monkey )(Kiss Mark ) ............................................

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**laslostin** id like to remind you all the team has strict PR orders about not posting pictures of Kent sleeping so thanks tim for doing gods work

**anita_010** yes please feed us some forbidden parson content

**fiona-yes-like-in-shrek** I’ve been told about this rule without getting why, but now I do.

**kent-person** I woke up to see so much slander on my person how dare you I need to be pretty for all those sponsorships deals to feed my cat

**2,5k likes**

 

_Kent Parson retweeted_

**Ya Boi Jamie @itsyaboime**

thks parson to prove the world that going from textbook basic straight boy to textbook basic gay boy is but one step

 

 

Kent finally got out of the bed before ten. He truly would have stayed for another hour or five; but he was alone in it. Tim and Kit left the bedroom and him all alone, and it smelled coffee and the apartment was so small that he could hear his boyfriend having a conversation with his cat in the kitchen, so. He got out of the bed. He even had the decency to look for clean underwear to cover his ass, because he was a good boyfriend and he knew that Tim was weird about seeing a penis dangling all around first thing in the morning. His loss.

When he entered the kitchen, it was to see Tim in deep conversation with Kit, at eyes level with her, who was perched on the countertop and didn’t seem to care.

 

“Kit, I need you to cooperate. You’re here for like, four days. Let’s not make it a repeat of last time, okay?”

 **“** What has she done this time?”

 

Tim startled, visibly too engrossed in his monologue to have noticed Kent coming in behind him. But he motioned him to come to kiss him hello, and for once, it itched a little, because neither of them had bothered to shave in like a week. Give it a month and the two of them could gather enough hair to make one beard.

 

“Your cat is the devil. She did the same as the last time,” Tim explained when Kent crouched next to him to pet his cat. “She went through the garbage can during the night.”

“She just really doesn’t like you.”

“Why? I’m an angel and everyone loves me. Your _grandma_ loves me and always send me cookies, and I heard her spew even more bigoted bullshit than my own grandma.”

“Kit is just jealous,” Kent said as he gathered the cat into his arms and stood up. “Because when you’re here she’s not the sole centre of the world anymore and I pay less attention to her.”

“Aw,” Tim cooed, standing up also. “Does that mean I’m the centre of your world?”

 

Was he?

Right now, in his small apartment, with only the two of them standing one into another, with his cat in his arms, and some coffee waiting to be drank? He could as well be.

 

“Depends if there’s Nutella to put on my pancakes.”

“Your nutritionist will kill you.”

“I am too pretty and too dumb to die.”

 

In the end, there wasn’t any Nutella. The open jar was almost empty and scrubbing the end just made one hella sad looking pancake.

While eating his own pancake, Tim was scrolling down his phone, laughing at it under Kent’s suspicious glare.

 

“Have you seen the Hollywood gossip article on me? It sounds like I blow all my money and yours in poker tournaments. Like no offense, but I work in them half of the time and the other half have small buy-ins fees and I’m not even that bad in them. Like, I don’t even lose money most of the time.”

 

Kent just looked at him.

 

“Before you talk, last time was a mistake.”

“One hell of an expensive mistake, then.”

“Oh _god_ , you gamble _one time_ a thousand bucks and… _”_

 

* * *

**Timothy, Kent**

> Got back in the car without being mobbed

> Laslos gf is bringing me back home she’s great

> Miss you already ………………………..

> Have a nice flight to Seattle

>> weve been photographied making out tho

>> it’s already on twitter Ritter says

>> the TwittoSphere

> yeh well all your teammates got to kiss their WAGs at the airport and I had a few months to make up for sO

>> not complanin just hoping theyre good pictures lol (Game Die )(Playing Card Black Joker ≊ Joker)

> jsyk Katie just told me she calls Laslo Scrappychou-poopoo

>> holy shit I wanna call him like that rn just to see his face but at the same time I wanna keep it up my sleevewhen ill need a power move against him

>> thank you so much for sharing this vital piece of info with me babe……………. (High-Speed Train )

> always happy to help hun (Kissing Cat Face With Closed Eyes )(Eyeglasses ≊ Glasses)

> going to help Diva, text/call me when you can tonight……………………

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked, see you on Wednesday for the last chapter !


	10. Saturday afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big talks of life can only happen in the liminal space that is when you're outside, under the stars, and that yes, there are people not that far but not close enough to pay any attention to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaand it's the last chapter ! Thank you for following it and I'm kinda proud to have finished !  
> As always, special thanks to Istadris. Dude, I wish you to find new videos of baby lynxes
> 
> Enjoy !

Seattle was cold and humid. It did the worse things to Kent’s hair.

They had booked some ice time in the afternoon, right after they landed, so they only got to the hotel right before dinner. They were exhausted, and had a morning game the following day, and then they’ll hit the road again to play the Oilers. Not a night to party. Instead, Kent, Swoops, Scraps and Fiona (who had been asked to come to the roadie as she was the only PR person Kent accepted to talk to) had all gathered in Kent’s and Swoops’ room to share some greasy pizza definitely not on their meal plan while watching a random episode of Friends. They had a lot to tell about the after party at Swoops the night before -apparently, Ann, five feet five and 120 lbs soaking wet wanted to prove she could down drinks like a hockey player, and ended sleeping on Jeff’s couch because she spend the night puking in the bathroom. Also, Filip became the star of the party because he knows three magic tricks and no one is a better public than a bunch of drunk jocks.

Once the pizza eaten, Scraps and Fiona rapidly excused themselves, Scraps because if he had an occasion to go to bed at eight, he’ll go to bed at eight, and Fiona to go enjoy the spa of the hotel.

 

“’Gonna make a phone call,” Kent said to Swoops while drying his hair after his (long, perfect) bath. “I let you the room for like, thirty minutes if you wanna call your son.”

“I already called Matty for his bedtime story while you seemingly felt asleep in the bathroom,” Swoops replied, while he was setting up his laptop for a gaming session as always. “You know what he told me?”

“That he wanted you to score for him tomorrow?”

“That he wanted _you_ to score for him tomorrow. Apparently because you’re all over the news now, you became cool among kindergarteners but no one believes that you’re his godfather.”

“At least, he’s more likely to get a goal from me than he is from you, mister Terrible-Stats.”

 

Kent got kicked out of the room but getting a headset thrown at his face, but honestly, worth it.

Finding a calm place in the hotel was more complicated than expected. There were a group of students in the common room downstairs. There were people coming and going in all the hallways, so the nooks in there with sofas were out of question. The bar was way too noisy.

Finally, he got to the rooftop. Only a few people were there, on couches, but there was a free bench far from them that gave him a view on the whole city, and on the sky not yet totally dark.

But of course, of course, Tim didn’t reply to his messages or his phone calls.

‘ _Yeah suuuuure call me tonight Ken, man of my dreams, light of my life, love of my heart, I’ll answer because I’ll miss you so much_ ’, he had said. Not like that exactly, but still.

Kent was maybe a little whiny and needy right now and he just wanted to hear Tim’s voice, and for once that he didn’t have to rush a phone call under two minutes while his roommate was taking a shit he’d like to make the most of it.

 

“Parse? I was looking for you. Uh… I don’t bother you I hope?”

 

Kent didn’t even bother to turn around. He only knew one person with such an annoying twangy voice. He absolutely didn’t want to talk with him right now, but well, it’s not like he had anything better to do.

 

“No, Gemini. Careful though, you might get cooties.”

 

Gemini didn’t say anything, but didn’t look at Kent while sitting his prominent six feet right next to him. Instead, his eyes were focused on the skyline in front of him, and his hands were busy playing with an almost empty Coke bottle.

Kent didn’t say anything. He laid his phone on the bench, and looked at the view too.

The silence wasn’t long. After a few minutes and a few tried that didn’t went past taking a deep breath to gather some courage, Gemini said:

 

“How is, uh… Your boyfriend?”

 

That wasn’t what Kent thought Gemini would begin with, but at least, it was easy to reply.

 

“Fine. At least I think. If he bothered to answer. But hey, no news, good news? If he had set something on fire or broken a bone it would already be all over his Twitter.”

“I… I saw what’s been said about him. You know, people calling him ugly, and a gold-digger, and not good enough.”

 

That is _definitely_ _not_ a territory on which Kent expected Gemini to venture at all. So he didn’t say anything, but turned his head towards his teammate, waiting for him to continue.

 

“I think they’re wrong. People saying that just don’t know him. I mean, uh; I don’t know him either, but…. I know you. You wouldn’t get with someone not good enough or a gold-digger. You wouldn’t even give someone the time of the day if they weren’t a good person.”

 

Gemini said that, and yet, for some reason, Kent still had let him sit next to him to talk. Oh boy, oh boy Gemini was so wrong.

 

“He’s ugly, though?” Kent asked with a teasing voice.

“What?” Gemini was visibly beginning to panic, his eyes going all over the place to try to find a cheat sheet. “No? I don’t think? I wouldn’t know?”

“Hehe,” Kent smirked. “I do know he won’t model for Calvin Klein’s underwear anytime soon. I still find his nerd face very charming. Beauty isn’t only in the standards set by society. And you can find other men beautiful, even if you’re straight, you know. I think some women are really pretty.”

 

Gemini didn’t seem impressed, if the meditative frown he was wearing was any indication.

 

“Don’t worry for Tim. He has thick skin, he’s been gay for thirty-one years on this bitch of an earth. He’s used to it by now, and I did let him an out when I came out, if he wanted to remain anonymous. He still decided to come out with me, even if he knew what it would mean for him.” 

“He wouldn’t have to be. Strong, I mean. Just because of who he is and who he loves.”

 

And, wow. That wasn’t Gemini. He probably, just like Carl, had a twin brother that was a okay person and who somehow took his place during the night.

Kent must have looked positively shell-shocked, because Gemini was bashfully looking at him now.

 

“I… I talked a lot about last week to people,” he tried to explain. “I mean I did promise not to talk about it, but I didn’t give any names and I really needed to talk about it because it… It fucked me up. I mean, not like, ‘oh my God he’s gay’ -or, yes, like ‘oh my God he’s gay’, but-“

“You can make a draft you know.”

“I did yesterday. I forgot it at home.”

“Oh. Wow.”

“Yeah, so. Um. Okay.” Gem took a few breaths, trying to gather his thoughts, and then said: “Okay, so I know I shouldn’t make it about myself, but after last week, my thoughts were all over the place, so I talked about it all to my ex because she left me for a girl so she’d understand, and to strangers on Internet, and Swoops came to talk with me and Teds about it on Wednesday. I mean, I think he came to make sure we wouldn’t sell you out, but we ended talking a lot together, and… And I’m sorry. I should have realised that coming to a gay club for fun was shitty, and I should have stopped the others, and I shouldn’t have felt the need to prove myself by going there, and I’m sorry you had to out yourself to not be outed. And it’s sad that you didn’t end in a team safe enough for you to be out, and I’m sorry I actively participated into making it bad. And it’s sad that the league is bad enough that you had to live a double-life, and I wish that in the future you can be as gay as you want and wear all the heels of the world if you want to. And all the other gay players. And I’m sorry. And I want to try to be better so when I fuck up just tell me.”

 

That was. That was surreal.

Kent was flabbergasted, and could only blink at Gemini. He expected a ‘I’m sorry’, but not- not someone _actually_ sorry.

 

“I- thanks. For your excuses.”

“And… I hope all of this won’t put your career in jeopardy. I saw how tense it’s become with the Aces, be it the other players or the staff. Soon you’re re-signing, and…”

“I’m not.”

 

It was Gemini’s turn to be surprised. As the order of life intended so.

 

“You’re… Not re-signing? They don’t want you anymore? I-”

“No. I mean, yes, they don’t want me anymore, but they’ll still publicly propose me a contract because they would look like huge homophobes if they don’t. But even if they’re the only ones proposing me a contract I won’t sign it. I ain’t spending any more than what’s left of the season in this fuckhole. It’s been two days since I came out and the only reason I haven’t punched anyone is that I do not know how to punch.”

“Is it… That bad?”

“Between the three quarters of the team barely talking to me, including a chunk spewing bullshit when I’m around, while knowing really well I can hear, the staff that only re-read me all the clauses of my contract regarding PR and reminded me they’d rather ‘not deal with my shit’ but they will because that’s how good I am and how nice they are and told me again that I contractually can’t openly criticise them, and made sure I give no interview without at least three of them present, or the spectators -do I need to remind you of yesterday’s match? Of things that had been said?, well between all that, let’s say that above all this I’d rather not have to deal with death threats and me or my boyfriend are getting on Internet.”

“I… Wow. I didn’t know. I didn’t realise-”

 “I came out before signing because I want a team that will support me, as flamboyant as I can be. A team where the only thing I’ll have to worry about are the people spewing their crap on Internet, but where I know the staff, the players, and the fans will respect and support me. And I’m… I’m not scared,” Kent said, hesitantly but at the same time, convinced of what he was saying. “I know there are still teams out there that will fight to get me, gay or not, heels or not. I have the luxury to be good enough. So… I guess I have to step up and be like Jack, to normalise it. Show that you can be queer and flamboyant -or not- and still play great hockey; so then after us, others can come out too. Others who are not the superstars of their teams, who don’t have shelves full of awards to hide behind. I don’t want any more Lebrown and Rickson’s.”

“It won’t be easy.”

“It won’t. But when I was in Juniors and struggling, and a rookie and a lost depressed baby gay, I would have need someone, anyone, to show me I could do it. Proofs that you can be queer and successful. And I can be this person to at least a few upcoming players, I know. So yes it’s gonna be hard, but I’m definitely not about using my fame and popularity to be as flamboyant as I want, to make it easier to everyone after me.”

 

Gemini took a long, deep breath, and looked back at the city in front of him. Contemplative.

It was rare to see him this serious.

 

“Why didn’t you come out before?”

 

And indeed. Why. 

 

“Because I’m a coward.”

“Everything you just said… That’s not cowardly.”

“It is. I would have happily stayed in the closet because I didn’t think the perks of coming out were worth the backlash I’ll get. At this point I’m just acting on auto-pilot. Or, rather, reacting to what’s happening. I came out because it was that or risking to be outed somewhere down the road, maybe in a week, maybe in five years, maybe never. I wanna do something now that I’m out because, well, I’m out so I can, but I don’t think it’s that brave. Just convenient. I could have done something to better the situations of LGBT+ folks within the league by coming out years ago, or even while still being in the closet, but I didn’t.”

“But you’re doing it now. Will be doing it, when the shitstorm has passed. Not everyone can say as much. Zimmermann barely did anything after he came out.”

 

Kent’s eye twitched at that, as always. He began to play with the helm of his hoodie, regretting the fluffy blanket on his balcony back at home.

 

“First of all,” he began, “it’s not because someone is out that they’ll owe anyone some militantism. Do what you want and what you can. Second, Jack had enough on his plate as it was. He is… he has enough on his plate. And third, yes he didn’t do a lot of _public_ militantism, loud and flashy, because he is a classy bitch when I sure am not. But he did a lot of under-the-scenes stuff; he told me a bit about it. Created a group with some closeted players that came out to him, that I refused to join, to have support and a community. Some of those guys asked him to be there when they came out to their GM to be sure to have someone on their side, and he always went. Volunteered and donated in local queer associations. Organised hockey camps and lessons for LGBT+ kids. He did stuff, you just didn’t hear about it. That’s just how Jack does things.”

 

Gemini didn’t reply. Just looked pensively at the skyline.

 

“You know…” Kent said with a smile.

“Mmh?”

“Jack is my ex. We were together. We fucked for months in Juniors. The rumours were true and then some.”

“What?!”

 

The rookie had dropped his phone on the floor and totally turned towards Kent, very visibly panicking.

 

“Why are you telling me that?”

“Because,” his captain smirked. “You’re the only one who never asked.”

“But still? Why? Why saying it at all?”

“Also because,” -and he smiled even more- “people will never believe you. Why would they believe you? You’ve got no proof, and you’re one of the guy who forced me out of the closet.  No one. Will. Believe. You.”

“Stop watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine, you sick son of a bitch,” Gemini said, elbowing Kent.

“Never,” he replied, laughing. “I always dreamed to do this.”

 

They stayed a bit longer on this bench. It was getting really cold. It was nice.

 

“I gotta go,” Gemini finally said. “Good night.”

 

He took a few steps, and asked:

 

“Parse?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t worry. Your boyfriend is pretty like a truck.”

 

Once again, all Kent could do was blink. And when he realised, Gemini was already far away, so he had to yell:

 

“You can’t just translate your fucking French idioms, Gem!”

 

Gemini wasn’t that wrong, after all.

 

 

Kent went back to his room, after that. Tim didn’t seem to want to answer his calls and texts, so. He dramatically threw himself on the double bed, startling Swoops who was sitting on it, playing on his computer and his headset set so loud that he didn’t hear Kent coming in.

 

“Jeff, I wanna die-“ Kent whined.

“I can drown you if you want, but I need to know why I’ll go to jail,” Swoops replied, but Kent could very much see that he didn’t care because he had no heart and was focused on his Overwatch game.

“Tim, it’s Tim! He doesn’t love me anymore! Even if I let him maul me with hickeys like a teenager yesterday and gave him a blowjob that would make a porn star proud. He doesn’t answer my texts!”

 

Swoops finally teared his eyes away from his computer to look at Kent. With his best fish face.

 

“He’s here?”

“What?”

“He’s right here.”

 

And he unplugged his headset, and the music of the game and the voice from Mumble began to play.

 

“ _Hey hi babe!_ ” a very well-known voice chanted. “ _I didn’t maul you like a_ teenager _thank you very much.”_

 

Oh the _traitor_.

 

“ _What the hell is happening?”_ a guy asked.

“ _Jeff’s colleague is my boyfriend, and they are both out of town for work, and now my boyfriend is all whiny because I played for fifteen minutes-“_

“Try fifteen hours, babe-“

“ _It’s not that la- ooooh it is_ _shit_. _Hun, you really tried to phone me twelve times?_ ”

“I can’t believe you’d rather spend the night playing with Sw-Jeff than talking with me.”

“I can’t believe anyone would willingly spend a minute with you,” Swoops said, as the match ended (they won).

“ _Tim you don’t be an asshole and you phone your whiny boyfriend”_ , a girl said.

_“No wait my wife is still in the bathroom I have time for one more game”_ someone added.

“I don’t,” Swoops said. “We work early tomorrow, I must go to bed. I’ll be back tomorrow night I think.”

“ _I’m off too. Well played, guys; Ken, texting you as soon as I go through the seventy notification you sent me, Jeff, don’t let him out of your sight, you’re eighty percent of his impulse control.”_

_“_ The first time we met, him and I were high as kites.”

_“His impulse control is_ that _bad. Bye everyone!”_

_“Bye Tim! Bye Jeff! By stoner boyfriend-colleague!”_

“Bye guys!”

Kent let Swoops turn off his game and Mumble, before he said, accusing:

 

“You play Overwatch with my boyfriend?”

“Yeah, he told me he didn’t have a regular team to play with, I made him join mine.”

“And he likes Overwatch more than he likes me, so he ignored me all night long.”

“Don’t worry about that, I think he’s already spamming you with excuses,” Jeff said, pointing at Kent’s buzzing phone. “We really needed a tank, and he mains Orisa, and he’s chill, so.”

 

Kent relied to a text with a smile on his face, and a second, and then said:

 

“Thanks for including him in.”

“No probs. He’s cooler than you,” Jeff said, smiling also.

 

Fair enough.

 

 

 

_Does that mean I’m the centre of your world?_

Had you asked Kent a week ago, last Saturday at eleven in the evening while he was dancing his heart out in the middle of his secret club, he would have said no, because how can your world can have a centre when you live two separate lives?

Had you asked him last week, just a few minutes shy to Sunday, when he was having a panic attack in his club’s office, he would have said no, because his world had just been shattered to pieces.

Had you asked him during the week, while he needed someone to hold him up and help him through the decisions he had to take, he’d have said yes, because that’s all he could see at the end of the day.

Ask him now, and Kent will tell you that it doesn’t matter. But whoever you are, he’ll tell you, because he can, that all that matter is that he’s in love.

 

That’s with a smile on his lips and his phone in his hand that Kent Parson fell asleep right before eleven this night. He just missed the screen lighting up again, flashing some new messages.

 

****

**Timothy, Kent**

> Your fucking cat went through the garbage again

> She must miss the smell from your place

> …………… (Kissing Cat Face With Closed Eyes )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it guys, and see you soon for new projects on OMGCP ! Some are already almost ready to be published.

**Author's Note:**

> Say hi @ insertatitlehere.tumblr.com


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